


Now I'm Here (Brian's POV)

by newsoftheworld



Series: Now I'm Here [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Cognitive Dissonance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Pining, Self-Loathing, Smut, Tour life, a lil bit of fluff, and a healthy amount of it, angsty shit, apologies in advance, except this time in Brian's POV, gets a lil explicit later on, historically-accurate for the most part, loosely based on his relationship with Peaches, the bars are real, the gigs are real, the rest is my imagination, the timeline is followed as closely as possible, this is the same story as my fic "Now I'm Here", unintended groupie, with some artistic freedom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newsoftheworld/pseuds/newsoftheworld
Summary: in which Brian, try as he might, can't keep from emotionally tying himself to women he meets on tourin which Katie, an unintentional groupie, becomes hopelessly entangled in the life of a rock star whose heart she can never fully attain–– an attempt at writing something that could have been (my take on Brian/Peaches)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I originally wrote this fic in Katie's POV, but I decided to give Brian's POV a go––partly because I'm still stuck in this fic's universe, and partly because I thought it'd be a good challenge.
> 
> I've always been intimidated by the prospect of writing from Brian's POV, and I'm still not confident that I'll be able to do him justice to the full extent that he deserves. But I'll try! Your feedback is really important to me so I'd love to know how you think I'm doing. Hopefully this doesn't turn to shit, lol
> 
> I'll be loosely writing a chapter for each of the original fic's chapters, although they might not line up quite the same way that the others did. I'm not 100% sure on that yet. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

_**May 4, 1974** _

_**Waterbury, CT, USA** _

* * *

 

Threads of adrenaline shot through his limbs as Brian hovered behind the curtain, veiling himself from the agitated crowd. Things were off to a less-than-desirable start. Restless fingers drummed on the body of his guitar, dull reverberations echoing through the acoustic pockets. The tape should be playing by now––they were wasting precious time. _What’s taking so long?_ A gross underestimation of the travel time from Harrisburg and multiple vehicular complications resulted in their tardiness, further aggravating the stress burgeoning in his mind. This left no time to perform a soundcheck. _Bastards better have my amp turned up loud enough_.

Glancing to his left, he fixed Freddie with an impatient, silent query. Before his friend could open his mouth, the familiar drone of their opening tape filtered through the PA system. _Finally._ Flashing Brian with a lopsided grin and a shrug of his shoulders, Freddie stepped up to the curtain, rhinestones on his chest glinting in the light that penetrated the curtains’ seams.

There was nothing to be done except hope for the best. To be fair, it was near impossible for this gig to be worse than the last. Fiddling with the heavy-set necklace laying across his collarbones, a ghost of a smile graced Brian’s lips as he recalled––or attempted to recall––the hazy stupor of his last performance. _The folly of a light-weight_.

Ah, there was his cue. Ensuring his guitar’s plug-in was secure for the hundredth time, he stepped onto the stage. The energy was palpable, his nerves quickly conceding to excitement. The notes came effortlessly to him––the slow, ominous picking, melding perfectly to the beat of the bassdrum and the reliable thrum of the bass.

_“A word in your ear, from father to son.”_

Brian could sense Fred’s nerves, even in the briefest of vocal inflections. Looking up from his guitar, he offered a half-smile.

As his eyes grazed the crowd, Brian took a moment to properly peruse this evening’s showing. The venue looked full––at least, insofar as the harsh lighting allowed him to see. They weren’t moving much, but that was to be expected. After all, no one knew who Queen was, or what their music had to offer. Striking a particularly heavy chord, Brian grinned. _They’ll learn soon enough_.

He could make out a few of the faces near the stage as the smoke began to settle. Despite touring relentlessly for the past month, being the focal point of the adoration of a myriad of women hadn’t lost its novelty. Unfettered beneath the colored lights, Brian allowed his eyes to make contact with a particularly beautiful girl. Flashing a grin, he meandered toward the center of the stage. _Is she blushing?_ Her long auburn hair reminded him so much of–– _Fuck!_ The chorus was well underway. Dashing back to his microphone, he breathlessly added his harmony to the mix, a slight flush spreading across his face.

_“Joyful the sound, the word goes around, from father to son, to son…”_

_Bang-up job, that was. It’s a wonder they turn my mic on at all_ . Brian grimaced, feigning nonchalance. Sustaining a note with persuasion from the tremolo, he stepped back from the mic and stole another glance at the girl. Her attention wasn’t on him any longer––her eyes were glued to something on stage right. _Fred? Probably._ It was strange. Although an admitted introvert himself, Freddie was measurable more timid than he––and yet, Freddie possessed the remarkable ability to stow it deep inside him, away from the ravenous eyes of the masses. On stage, he was transformed. The object of everyone’s desire.

No matter. He shouldn’t be pining for their adoration anyway.

_“But you’ll write it out again before you die…”_

Leaning over his guitar, Brian fixed the fretboard with deep concentration. Determined to perfect each note of the solo that was almost second nature to him, he nearly didn’t hear the screeches leaking through the speakers. Whipping his head up to look at Freddie and Roger, their expressions of utter confusion confirmed his suspicion––some careless prick must’ve played the tape for ‘Ogre Battle’ out-of-order. Biting his lip to prevent revealing his discontent, Brian buckled down and tore through the remainder of the instrumental interlude. _Christ. A gig without mishaps_ is _and impossibility, it seems. Wonder if anyone noticed._ The crowd seemed unaffected, exploding with applause as the song ended with a flourish of cymbals.

“Thank you very much, good evening! It’s very nice to be here in Waterbury. How you doin’?” Taking a moment to relax as Freddie addressed the crowd, Brian let his guitar hang low on his hips and ran his fingers through an especially frizzy section of his hair.

“How you doin’ over there?” A roar of approval. “Alright, really nice. Good. We’d like-we’d like to do something from our Queen II album now, it’s a number…” Freddie paused to lick his lips and wipe his brow, already beginning to glisten. “...a number called ‘Ogre Battle.’”

 

***

 

“Did you hear that bloke who kept shouting about? God, he wouldn’t shut up!”

“I almost shouted right back at him, the prick.”

“I think he wanted the people in the front to sit down.”

“What does he expect from a rock ‘n’ roll concert? People to sit daintily so, quietly watching the show?”

“Americans, I tell you.”

Their bit was over––now it was time to wait. Filing in behind Roger into the backstage alcove, Brian couldn’t help but grin. “Christ, when the tape started playing, I was sure we’d all but ruined ourselves.” He gave a quick nod to Ratty, their beloved roadie, who stood near the entrance, waiting their return.

“Oh that was rich, wasn’t it?” Roger, in all his paisley glory, flounced down into a raggedy old chair that must’ve been stored in an attic for decades before being dragged out for their use.

“I suppose I do understand––Ogre Battle _is_ one of my finest creations, if I do say so myself, but even I have the patience to wait through the opening number to hear it.” Chuckling, Freddie accepted the shawl Ratty was holding out for him.

“Don’t think anyone noticed, thank heavens.”

Echoes of their performance continued to pulse in Brian’s ears as the adrenaline began to settle within him. Scanning the cramped room, he spotted a cup of water sitting on an old amp. After carefully placing his guitar back into its case, he made a grab for the cup and took a swig. The merciful lukewarm liquid quelled the sandpapery taste that often surfaced after a night of singing.

“D’ya reckon there’s any good pubs in this town?” Legs splayed across the chair, Roger began to drum his sticks aimlessly against the armrest. “Could really use a good drink. And a shag, no less.”

In the corner, John snorted.

“I believe I heard Mick mention a place,” Ratty offered.

“Don’t worry darling, we’ll be getting proper fucked tonight––if the crowd was any indication.” Raising a handheld mirror up to inspect his eyeliner, Freddie let out a dramatic huff. “It’s the least we deserve, after all that fuss with the van.”

Setting his empty cup back down, Brian leaned against the wall and crossed his arms against his chest. “Well, I don’t know about you lot, but I’m not all that opposed to getting a good night’s sleep.” The restless nights spent in crummy small-town motels were beginning to encroach on his sanity.

Guffaws from the drummer filled the air and Freddie cracked a smile. “Really, dear? I thought we’d worked out your schoolboy nerves by now. A little sampling of America’s delicacies won’t kill you.”

“You’re robbing yourself of some fantastic experiences.” Roger gave him an exaggerated wink and prodded him in the side with a drumstick. “I’m sure Chrissie would do the same, given the opportunity.”

Rolling his eyes, Brian managed a sarcastic grin. “I do believe you’re forgetting that not everyone has the mind of a dog, Rog. Some of us understand the concept of fidelity.”

“You called?” Grinning, John deposited himself onto a couch across the room.

“Besides, it’s not nerves anyway. I’m just bloody exhausted from these shoddy motels with beds stiff as a plank.”

Scoffing good-naturedly, Roger twirled his drumstick in his hand. “You two might be the most self-righteous gits I’ve ever known.”

“Come now, Splodge, let them hold onto their moral conscience for a bit longer.” Shutting his mirror with a _click_ , Freddie joined John on the couch, draping velvet-clad legs across the bassist’s lap. “It’s quite endearing.”

“Sod off.” Swatting at a drumstick Roger had tossed into the air, Brian grinned as it clattered to the ground. “I’m perfectly content with my situation.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say.”

“Say, anyone game for a bit of scrabble?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized that the premise of this fic might not be as obvious to you all as it is to me—should I give a better explanation of the Peaches/Brian relationship? This story isn't to be 100% accurate to what their relationship was, I only wanted to explore the possibilities of a situation that may have occurred for him more than once.
> 
> This chapter came to me quickly while in my psych lecture haha. It's a bit shorter but I think it's in tandem with the shorter chapters of the original fic. 
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated! Thank you so much for the kudos and support, it means a lot <3

**May 4, 1974**

**Waterbury, CT, USA**

* * *

 

“‘White Parrot’? Bit of a queer name for a pub, don’t ya think?” Pete’s distinctive drawl ricocheted down the hall. Brian, in the process of organizing all his equipment, cracked a smile.

“ _I_ think it sounds lovely. Very _de_ _rigueur_.” Freddie gave Mott’s bassist a faux-haughty smile before strutting across the hallway toward the bathroom. “You all can go ahead and survey the talent, I’ll only be a moment,” he instructed before disappearing into the tiny closet of a room.

“Talent? He really expects birds to be hangin’ about out there, in all that rubble? Looked a frightful mess when we arrived.” Lighting a cigarette, Roger leaned against the wall and surveyed the going-ons around him.

Brian observed Morgan, Mott’s keyboardist, as he bummed a light from Roger. “Oi, don’t sell ourselves too short. I ‘eard one of Ian’s girls––Susan, or something of the like––has decided to come ‘round. Might bring a friend or two.” The heavily-mustachioed man leered at the prospect.

Deciding to tune out of their vapid conversation, Brian instead turned his attention to Ratty, who was hovering near the backstage doorway. “I heard a bit of fuzz in this one tonight,” Brian informed, gesturing to his most well-loved Vox amp. “Might be time to switch it out for one of the newer ones––or at the very least, add it to the rotation so as to avoid further damage.”

“Right.” Whipping out a tiny notebook from his back pocket, the slight man scribbled for a moment before snapping it shut. “Good to be proactive, I’ll be sure to let the others know. Say, maybe if you turned the volume down for a change, mate, they wouldn’t deteriorate so quickly…” A wink punctuated the quip.

Chuckling, Brian clapped Ratty on the back. “Good one, that.” _We both know that’s not going to happen._ “She’s ready to be loaded into the van.”

As their roadie scurried off with the equipment in question, Brian returned to retrieve his guitar from the alcove. Everyone had vacated the premise, eager to relocate to a place with decidedly more alcohol.

He derived an odd sort of pleasure from the aftermath of a gig––the calm after the storm, remnants of the frenzied energy dissipating into the woodwork. A shadow of a smile crossed his lips as he stared at the soft glow of the emergency exit sign. ‘Queen II’ was slowly climbing the American charts, but the traction of their single, ‘Seven Seas of Rhye,’ wasn’t nearly as potent as it was in the UK. _Slow and steady, slow and steady_ , he reminded himself. _I’ve got to believe in myself and in what we’re doing, otherwise who will?_ He was almost certain the crew thought they were out of their minds, what with acting on the presumption that it was only a matter of time before they were the biggest band in the world. They could snigger all they wanted—combined, the four of them had enough confidence to take over the world… and then some.

And yet, strangely, it was times like these where Brian felt especially empty. He’d left his family, his friends, his long-time girlfriend, to pursue an uncertain dream. Hell, he’d given up a perfectly respectable academic career, much to his parents’ disapproval, to attempt to dazzle crowds with his superfluous, pretentious solos. What kind of idiot does that? _Me, apparently._

It was easy to avoid the daunting prospect of his potential failure most days. Often he chose to fill his time with perfecting his playing style, or engaging in nonsensical conversations with his bandmates. Brian derived particular enjoyment from acquainting himself with new people in each city on their tour. They all had something fascinating to offer––new ideas, different perspectives, or just simply staving off his hunger for human connection. But, as always, with a mind constantly shifted into overdrive, succumbing to his introspective tendencies was inevitable.

A tiny sigh left his lips as he brought his hands up to rub his eyes. _I suppose a drink or two might be alright. I should phone Chrissie… hearing her voice might tide me over for the next week or so. Hopefully._

Gripping his guitar case in hand, Brian took one more look at the abandoned backstage before wandering back into the hallway. Spirited chattering wafted down the corridor. _Everyone must be packed up already_. Typical––he often found himself lagging behind.

As he reached the end of the passageway, he turned the corner and was surprised to see a woman. She was bent down and appeared to be collecting the remaining odds and ends of the band’s electrical equipment––possibly left by a rather uninspired member of the crew. _Odd. Is she with us?_ He couldn’t help but notice her dress and how wonderfully it clung to her figure. Immediate embarrassment tinged with guilt flooded his mind as he fought the blush that threatened to color his cheeks. _Jesus, Bri, say something why don’t you_.

“Need some help with those?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! I hope your week was less hectic than mine... really wasn't prepared for the return from break, lol.
> 
> This chapter is still fairly short––I'm finding that many of the earlier chapters of the original fic are very short, so I'm not able to increase the volume much more yet because, thus far, I'm sticking to the exact same timeline. I hope that's alright with you :)
> 
> Thanks for all the comments! I'd love to know how you feel about my attempts to convey Brian's thoughts while not playing too heavily into the stereotypes surrounding him (that's what I'm doing my best not to do hehe)

**May 4, 1974**

**Waterbury, CT, USA**

* * *

 

Brian watched curiously as the woman shot up, her long auburn hair momentarily covering her face before she hastily tucked it behind her ear.  _ Why does she look so familiar? _ Her freckled cheeks began to color with pink as her eyes met his. 

“Umm, uh, yeah, sure!” The soft grin she gave him roused a couple dormant butterflies in his stomach.  _ Shit.  _ “I'm able to take almost all of these, there’s just those mic stands that need carrying.”

Nodding, Brian attempted to hide his amusement. “Ah.” Shifting his guitar to his left hand, he gathered the stands in his right, making a concentrated effort not to hit either himself or the woman in the process. “I’m assuming you’re one of Pete’s girls, then?” He allowed himself a moment to analyze her face more closely—he didn’t want to come off as a creep, but there was something so  _ familiar _ about her face.  _ Where do I know her from?  _ He did his best to wrack his brain, but her enchantingly delicate features hindered the recall process considerably.

“Oh! No, I’m actually here with one of my friends––Stacy? She knows Ian, and she wanted to catch up with him after the show.” 

_ She’s the girl from the audience! Of course, I should’ve known. _ Increasingly intrigued, Brian laughed. “Catch up’, huh. So that means you’ve been nominated to do all the heavy lifting, does it?” A flicker of delight crossed his mind as she blushed again.  _ Hmm. _ He likened her eyes to the sated tranquility of English skies after a long rain.  _ Introduce yourself. _ “I’m Brian May, by the way. I’d shake your hand but–” He shrugged his shoulders with a grin, glancing at his occupied hands. 

“I’m Katherine Parker, but my friends call me Katie. I really enjoyed your show.” She spoke quickly— _ is she nervous? _ Detecting an unusual lilt in the way she spoke, Brian wondered if everyone on the East Coast shared this tonal quality. “I haven’t seen anything like it. The way you incorporated the smoke and lights to create the atmosphere for your songs was genius.” Another dazzling smile.

“Katherine.” A wonderfully elegant name _. Fitting.  _  “Well, thank you! The finished product you saw back there is the result of countless arguments, so I’m glad someone’s appreciating it.” He was accustomed to watery compliments from concert attendees, which made her astute observation all the more surprising. Before he could stop himself, his eyes traveled down past her neck, taking note of the dip in the neckline of her olive-green dress, the subtle curve of her waist…  _ Christ. Stop. You’re having a conversation.  _ “I can’t tell you how many venues are resistant to the setup we’ve painstakingly curated over the past few years, it’s quite an ordeal, really.” Tearing his eyes away from her body, he feigned nonchalance. “So––you’re with Stacy? Does that mean you’re from Waterbury as well?” 

“Brian! Whose ears are you talking off now?” It took every single ounce of Brian’s willpower not to roll his eyes into the back of his head.  _ Roger.  _ Sure enough, the inconsiderate bastard appeared at the end of the hall, hair fluffed to excess, an impish grin on his face. “By this rate we won’t make it to the bar until bloody two in the morn–oh, what’s this?”

Stealing a glance back at Katie, Brian smiled weakly. “Katie, this is Rog.” Turning to his friend, Brian shot him a very pointed look— _ don’t you dare even  _ think  _ about trying anything. _ “Roger’s the drummer, and coincidentally, the biggest member of the group.”

A whack on the shoulder confirmed Roger had gotten Brian’s message. “Sod off, May. I can’t help being the most well-liked member of the band.”

Brian snorted. 

“I hope you enjoyed the set. I was a bit nervous about my kit being out-of-sorts after the the drive up from Harrisburg, but I think it turned out alright.” Curious, Brian kept his eyes on Katie during this interaction—her crossed legs indicated she was a bit intimidated, but her smile was warm and kind. 

“If there was anything wrong with it, I certainly couldn’t tell. It was a phenomenal set, really––I’m glad my friend dragged me along, even if it means I’m dead tired at work tomorrow.” 

_ She enjoyed it. _ A gratifying boost to the ego. Smirking at his friend, Brian added, “she’s a friend of Stacy’s, I’m sure you remember Stacy.” 

“Ahh.” Roger licked his lips and, to Brian’s chagrin, made an obvious display of thoroughly looking Katie up and down. It wasn’t anything new, but Brian found himself feeling unusually irked. “Yes, of course, Stacy. Couldn’t forget that one––she had me out of my mind for  _ days _ , hangin’ about in those tight miniskirts. Never did understand her fascination with Ian. I’d prefer Dale meself.”

“Oi, did I hear my name?”  _ Great, let’s invite the whole crew to join the conversation, shall we? _ Dale’s shadow cast itself on the wall opposite the door, the man himself peering into the corridor, cigarette in hand. “What the hell are you all doing standing about? The rest of the shit’s already packed up, we can head over to the pub in five if you get your arses in gear.”

Wanting to continue talking to Katie but unsure of exactly  _ why _ ––or what to say––Brian shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. Now he  _ really _ wanted a drink.

After barking down the hall for the rest of the band to haul ass, Roger focused his attention on Katie once again. “Hope you’ll join us, love, it’s bound to be great fun.” With a wink, the blonde mercifully made his exit.

As Brian was attempting to recover from the whiplash of conversation, he felt Katie’s eyes on him. “I suppose we ought to actually do something with these.” Her quip caught him off-guard, buried deep in thought. 

“Mm, I suppose we should.” Unsure of what else to do, he gestured for her to go on ahead.  _ I wonder if she’s planning to join us? Maybe I should ask- no, it’s not my place.  _ Following her out the door and across the alley, Brian did his best to keep his eyes above waist-height. 

One he secured the placement of his guitar in the equipment van, Brian innocently scanned the many bodies for the one donned in olive-green. A thrill of anticipation zipped through his body as he spotted Katie following her friend and the rest of the band into the vehicle.  _ So she  _ will  _ be joining us.  _ Conflicting emotions fought for control of his thoughts. Maybe he should just let it be––Roger seemed quite interested in her. That’s how it always went, right?  _ Right. _

But as Brian settled into a seat next to Freddie, he couldn’t shake the lingering possibility.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was much more gratifying to write, solely because I was able to fit in lots of tiny Brian-specific details, haha. Those details make me feel like I'm doing a bit of justice as far as factual character authenticity goes.
> 
> Hope you're enjoying the very convoluted ride that this fic has morphed into as much as I am!

_**May 4, 1974** _

_**Waterbury, CT, USA** _

* * *

 

Something was off. Normally, Brian would be immersed in scrutinizing their performance with Freddie, a pocketful of criticisms on hand. But as he sat squished between Freddie’s wiry body and the equally scrawny Ratty, he found it difficult to conjure up any helpful suggestions.

“What did you think of the transition from your solo bit back into the end of ‘Son and Daughter’? I thought it worked quite nicely, although Rog could do well to ease off of the high-hats.”

“Mm.” The stale air in the van had acquired a salty, dank quality to it, further distracting Bran from the question at hand. Peering down at the heavily inked paper in Freddie’s hand, he attempted to focus his attention. “It seemed alright to me. Rog sounded good.”

“Jesus Brian, are you even listening to me?” A jab in the ribs from Freddie’s pen forced Brian’s neurons from dormancy. “You always have a bone to pick with his playing!”

Giving a feeble shrug of his shoulders, Brian located the tender spot on his ribcage and began kneading it carefully with his fingers. “I didn’t have a problem with it tonight.”

Turning to scrutinize the guitarist with his mercurial eyes, Freddie let out an exasperated huff. “Oh alright, don’t tell me what’s got you bothered, then. I’m a right good listener, Brimi, you know you can tell me anything.”

As much as he appreciated his friend’s words, the last thing Brian wanted to do was have an emotional heart-to-heart. He wasn’t even sure himself why he was feeling so odd. _I’m just tired._ “Just a bit knackered is all. Think I need to hear Chrissie’s voice.”

Freddie’s demeanor softened noticeable beside him. “Oh, dear, that’s perfectly normal. The two of you have been inseparable for as long as I can remember––it must be hard. You’ve been holding up remarkably well, you know… I’ve only had to sit you down and force the repressed feelings out of you once or twice.” A toothy grin softened the comment’s bite, and Brian grinned back feebly.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine, really, just need a bit of time to clear my head.” Shifting his cramped legs against the battered leather of the seat, Brian slipped his feet from his clogs momentarily to air them out. “Ah. I’ve just remembered something I noticed onstage––you’ve been jumping your cue for the bridge in ‘Ogre Battle,’ it doesn’t give me enough time to finished the end bit of line transitioning from the chorus, y’know?”

 

***

 

It was surprising how _nice_ the pub was. From the brief glimpses Brian had of the town––which was teetering on the brink of claiming the label ‘city’––it seemed very quaint. Certainly no indication of the glamorous potential hidden behind the brick exterior of the pub. ‘The White Parrot’ sounded exotic, and Brian supposed it _was_ exotic, considering how much it deviated from the rest.

Taking a moment to assess the new environment, Brian took note of the lively atmosphere. Men in distinguished dress and women draped in fineries to excess flitted on and off the dance floor. It sounded as though the hired band was attempting to play a version of ‘Blue Suede Shoes,’ but the way the lead guitar was deviating from the chord structure made him cringe. _Christ. Surely this place can afford a better band than this crap._ Despite his misgivings about the music, he begrudgingly allowed himself to take solace in the sociable ambience. _Right. Call Chrissie first, socialization second._

Many thoughts and desires competed for his focus, but priority was put on getting out of his stagewear. The billowy tunic was all well and good on stage, but the humid evening air was beginning to adhere the fabric to his skin. A change of shirt in hand, Brian made a beeline for the bathroom before Freddie could rope him into a drinking game. On his way, he noticed a public telephone nestled discreetly near the exit sign. _Duly noted._

Silently thanking all things holy for its vacancy, Brian made quick work of shuffling into the single-stall bathroom and locking the door. _Alone at last._ He leaned against the door and allowed his eyes to flutter shut for a moment, an inaudible sigh parting his lips. It was imperative to savor solitary moments such as these. Tour was an endless barrage of faces, new and old. Sure, he was adept at keeping his introverted tendencies hidden, but it felt good to be alone, too. Sometimes.

Pulling his top over his head, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Not one for vanity, he allowed his eyes to linger only briefly on his painfully prominent rib cage and pale skin. His fingers ghosted over a slightly swollen protrusion located at the bottom of his lower ribs––a blemish that had far overstayed its welcome. He couldn’t decide whether it looked larger or smaller than the day before. Pushing the thought from his mind, Brian tugged the blue button-up onto his body. _Hmm. Should’ve opted for something a bit spiffier._ Picking aimlessly at a limp curl shadowing his forehead, Brian ran through the phone number seared into his memory once more for good measure. _011 44 020385914… 914..._

Tucking his discarded tunic under his arm, Brian unlocked the door and returned to reality. He scanned the busy room, scouring the sea of people for–– _ah ha._ “Ratty!” Waving his arm above his head, Brian caught the attention of the skimpy man who occupied a booth across the floor. He appeared to be enjoying the company of a busty blonde. Peeling himself from the booth, Ratty teetered over to Brian––an amusing sight.

“Yes, Bri, what is it?” Whisky breath permeated the air as their roadie huffed, clearly unimpressed by the interruption.

“Be a good lad and make sure this gets back into our van, yeah?” Smiling sweetly, Brian pressed his navy tunic into the other man’s hands.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. ‘ave to do everything meself, hmm?” Flicking his cigarette, Ratty offered a good-natured grin. “A bunch of princesses, the lot o’ ya.”

“You’re a saint, truly.” Clapping him on the shoulder, Brian nodded his farewell before turning back to find the telephone he’d spotted earlier. As his eyes swept the room, he caught himself looking for Katie. Locating her at the far end of the bar, a surge of excitement shocked him with its intensity. He opted not to dwell on the source of said feeling and instead meandered back toward the exit sign.

Fumbling in his pocket for change, Brian pulled out a handful of American coins. He bent down to scrutinize the instructions printed on the phone box, eyes widening as he read the cost for a transatlantic call. _Fucking hell._ Steep prices for international calls were expected, but this seemed particularly excessive. Grumbling a couple choice expletives under his breath, he gripped the receiver in one hand and dialled the long string of numbers that coded for the small flat in London he called home. Once the ring tone began to beep, he slotted the silver coins into the machine. A dull _clang_ signaled the call’s activation.

Static. Erratic electrical droning. And then––

“Hello?

“Chrissie.” The soothing drawl of her morning voice grounded him immediately. “G’morning, luv.”

“Brian, is that you?” Her voice crackled with interference.

A sad smile persisted at the corner of his lips. “Yes, of course it’s me. I said I’d call again this week, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but I suppose I expected you to be busy. Isn’t it quite late?”

“Only about half past eleven. Nothing crazy. We just finished a gig, actually–” The harsh beeping of the dial tone interjected, derailing his train of thought. “Fuck!” Hastily grabbing for another set of coins, Brian became increasingly agitated. _Blasted phone lines… gonna rob me blind._ He plugged the number in again, releasing a weighted breath upon hearing Chrissie’s laugh on the other end.

“American phones don’t seem to like you very much.”

“Feels like a conspiracy to keep me away from you.” Brian tried to laugh, but the sounds he uttered lacked the necessary amusement. “But don’t worry, I won’t let them.”

“How are you? Feeling okay? Has your stomach stopped troubling you so?”

Leaning his shoulder against the wall, Brian wrapped his index finger in the phone cord. “Yes, I’m alright. Just feeling a bit blue, but that’s nothing new. Nothing to write home about. My stomach? Yes, it’s felt a bit better this week––no vomiting so perhaps I’m on the upswing. But that’s not important. How are you getting on?”

Through the static, Brian could hear the rustling of sheets––the image of her lying alone in their bed sent a aching pang through his heart. “Me? Well, today I’ve made plans to go out with Irma and Lucy. Tom wanted to tag along as well, so I suppose he’ll join us. Maybe have a picnic down by the river, the weather’s been splendid.”

“Tom? Is that the overeager bloke I met when I visited you at work a while back?”

She giggled. “Yes, that’s him.”

Brow furrowing, Brian attempted to pacify the jealousy rising in his chest. “I know I’ve already told you this, but please be careful with him––he seems a bit too keen, if you ask me.”

Laughter resonated in his ear. “You have nothing to worry about, Bri, but I promise I’ll be careful. Say, I really should be getting up––I need to make myself something to eat before heading out.”

He wanted to protest, but he knew it’d be selfish to ask for more of her time. “Of course, of course––hang on, were you able to pay the bills alright? Did you find all the paperwork I set out for you? Has the bathroom sink stopped leaking?”

“Yes, yes, I paid them, and yes, I got my father to stop by with his tools to take a look at it.”

That made him chuckle. “By Job, it’s a miracle! I’m amazed he found it in his heart to visit his daughter at the very house he proclaimed her to be, and I quote, ‘living in sin.’”

“Ha ha, quite the jokester, you are. Believe it or not, he does still care about me, despite our living together. I’d love to continue discussing my parent’s misgivings about our situation, dear, but I really must go.”

“Yes, alright. Enjoy your day, luv. Speak soon.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Retracting the phone from his ear, Brian took a moment to stare at the instrument before dejectedly hanging it on its hook. As much as he’d longed to hear his girlfriend’s voice, the discordant emotions from earlier continued to thrive in his mind. It seemed he was sustained less and less by Chrissie’s voice with every phone call. A mixture of melancholy, loneliness, self-consciousness, excitement, and fatigue swirled through the depths of his thoughts as he made his way back into the main room.

Unlike the rest of the pub, Brian was completely sober. Deciding to do something about it, he approached the bar. Careful to avoid the drunken stumbling of a couple on the verge of toppling over, he found himself approaching Katie. She was still seated at the bar where he saw her last, her back turned to him. Without giving himself a chance to overthink, he swiftly brought himself to stand next to her.

“Hey.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's amazing how compressed ao3 makes 3000+ words look––on google docs it looks impressive, but here it looks like barely anything at all lol. That being said, this chapter is roughly double the length as the last, and hopefully just as enjoyable to read.  
> I am a bit weary about the writing of this one, mainly because it's the first chapter where you really get a closer look at Brian's introspective-ness. As always, I did my best, but still don't feel completely confident in my portrayal... it's getting there. ;)  
> Hope you all had a lovely Friday! Cheers for the weekend

_**May 5, 1974** _

_**Waterbury, CT, USA** _

* * *

 

Brian wasn’t sure what he expected from his approach––tight-lipped acknowledgement, or a “do-I-know-you” tilt of the head, perhaps––but Katie’s dazzling smile and wide eyes far exceeded any vestige of expectation. The unmitigated openness she emanated was simultaneously shocking and endearing.

“Hi! You’re back.”

He chuckled.  _ So she  _ does  _ remember me.  _ This tiny victory for his starving ego bolstered his nerves, and he gestured to the stool next to her. “Is this seat taken?” He knew it wasn’t, but he didn’t want to impose–– _ maybe she’s not interested in sharing conversation with a neurotic guitarist. _

But she shook her head, soft auburn locks caressing her bare shoulders with the movement.

Sliding onto the leather seat, Brian took note of the empty cocktail glass in her hand. 

“What’ve you been up to?” Her eyes glittered under the dim bar lights.

Biting his lip, Brian considered the framing of his answer.  _ She’s just making conversation, she probably doesn’t actually want to know. _ But he despised superficial chit-chat, especially at the end of an exhausting day, and so he opted to tell the truth. “I was on the phone with my girlfriend. She insists I call every other day, which, theoretically, is fine.” Raising his hand to his neck, he slipped it beneath the collar of his shirt. “It’s just a bit difficult to find a telephone after gigs, y’know? And don’t even get me started on how expensive a transatlantic call is.” Trailing off with a half-hearted chuckle, he met her eyes briefly before casting them down to the countertop. A trace of guilt entered his consciousness.  _ ‘She insists?’ I sound a right arsehole.  _

“Mmm.” From the sounds of it, Katie wasn’t too interested in his long-distance woes. Looking up at her once more, Brian surreptitiously took note of a strap on her dress that had begun its descent down her shoulder.

“I can only imagine. That must be hard.” 

Pity was the last thing he wanted, and so he swiftly rerouted the conversation. “But that’s enough of my griping. You have a boyfriend?” As soon as the words left his lips, he felt himself cringe internally at the connotation.  _ Why did I ask that? _

Beside him, she laughed. “No. Even if I wanted one, work doesn’t give me much spare time to make an effort to look.” 

Placated by her nonchalance, curiosity got the best of him. “You don’t want one?” 

“Well, I don’t know…” She was blushing again. “Not right now, I don’t think.” Pausing, she broke their eye contact, cheeks retaining their pink hue. “My career is too important to me.”

_ Beautiful  _ and  _ principled. Interesting. _ “That’s quite smart, actually. What do you do for work, then?”

“I work for the city newspaper as an assistant to the editor. Not nearly as glamorous as it sounds, unfortunately.” Brian couldn’t suppress the grin burgeoning on his lips at her subtle wit. “But I like it! It’s what I’m good at.” 

“Huh. I think I’d be rubbish at that.” It was true––as much as he’d excelled in most other areas of academia, literature never cultivated the same level of prowess. “What do you like about it so much?”

Katie tilted her head, leaning her weight onto the countertop. “Maybe it’s because I’m a perfectionist, but it gives me so much satisfaction to be in charge of ensuring the final product is as good as it possibly can be. I’m just an assistant right now, but I can’t wait to be the main person responsible for editing.” The subtle changes in facial expressions as she articulated her thoughts were mesmerizing. 

“There’s just something about doing things yourself––it reassures you that it’s actually getting done correctly,” Brian added. He was in complete agreement––in the end, he could really only trust himself to see a project through to completion, while also ensuring the highest standard. Painfully aware of how conceited such an opinion might be perceived, he smiled sheepishly. “I’m the same way.”

“Sometimes I think it’s a curse, but here we are.” She mirrored his smile. 

His eyes were drawn to her legs as she crossed one over the other––the skirt of her dress inched farther up her thighs with each movement. Mouth suddenly dry, he swallowed thickly and attempted an unaffected smile. “I should think it’s partly the fault of my upbringing,” he mused. “My parents practically encouraged my perfectionistic tendencies, bless ‘em.”

“Have you always been so set on a career as a musician?” Her fingers played with the hem of her dress. 

Lifting a hand to drag a couple fingers through his mane of unkempt curls, Brian allowed himself a moment to formulate his answer.  _ How transparent am I going to be tonight?  _ “No, not always. At least, not to this extent. I wanted to study the stars when I was younger.”

“Stars! So you’re interested in astronomy?” Sounding genuinely engaged, Katie fixed him with an inquisitive look.

“Yeah.” Grinning, Brian shifted in his seat. “For as long as I can remember. I think I spent ninety-percent of my childhood laying outside in the grass at night, looking up at the sky. There’s something about the vastness of it all, the sheer beauty of the unknown.” It was amazing how comfortable he felt relaying bits of personal information to this complete stranger.  _ Seems to be an unfortunate habit in the making. _ “If that makes sense,” he added.

Nodding, Katie offered an encouraging smile. “That makes complete sense. I guess I’ve never given much thought to what lies beyond this planet, but it’s certainly fascinating to think about all that exists and has existed out there.” Her fingers slid across her knee in a dance as her eyebrows knit together in thought. “I suppose you could name every star and planet in the sky if I asked you to.”

_ Is she teasing me? _ Tilting his head curiously, the slight smirk he observed on the corner of her lips indicated she might be. Beguiled by her charm, Brian smiled timidly. “Yes, I suppose I could. I should think it comes with the territory. Although, I haven’t really put any of my college studies to practical use for a couple years now, so maybe I shouldn’t be so confident.” 

“Was that when you decided to pursue a career in music instead?”

“Mhm.” He allowed his fingers to splay across the varnished countertop. “I really was dead set on getting my PhD, you know. I had already begun with it before deciding to drop it altogether for Queen.”

A soft hum of understanding accompanied the softness of her eyes on him. “Was it the right choice?”

_ Getting philosophical, are we? _ “To be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever know if it was. I love astronomy but I also love music, y’know? Sometimes you have to pick one path and pray it’s the right one for you.” 

Katie seemed to be processing his answer, her lips slightly parted and fingers grazing the empty glass on the counter. “You don’t seem like a rock musician.” 

This time Brian really laughed, and it caught him by surprise. 

Beside him, she floundered to explain herself. “No, really! You don’t. At least, not the image I have of rock musicians.”

Feeling particularly playful, Brian clutched at his chest, feigning hurt. “That’s my career you’re talking about! How am I meant it make it if I don’t look the part?”

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Katie reached over to poke his bicep lightly. It wasn’t anything at all, but the physical contact sent his nerves firing like mad. “I meant it as a compliment! It’s a good thing––means you’re not as one-dimensional as the rest.”

Her backhanded compliment mingled with the warmth of her touch, both equally confusing. Unsure of how to respond, Brian allowed himself to look at her–– _ really _ look at her. She was very beautiful, in a demure sort of way. A soft sprinkling of freckles trailed down her nose and spilled onto her cheeks, complimenting her otherwise fair complexion.  _ Why is she choosing to spend her time with me? _

“Are you two okay on drinks?” A kurt, restrained voice broke the silence between them. Brian turned to see a bartender behind the bar, looking expectantly at him.

Blinking rapidly, Brian nodded. “Ah, yes actually, can I have an orange juice and vodka?” Wanting to be chivalrous, he looked back at Katie. “Can I get you something as well?” Not that he had much spare change, but he figured it was the least he could do.

But she shook her head. “No, I’m alright, but thank you.” Looking slightly embarrassed, she added, “I’ve had a couple drinks already.”

“Ta.” He waved to the bartender as he scurried off with the order. “A lightweight, are you?” Laughing, he turned in his seat completely until he was facing her head-on. “It’s alright, so am I. Two beers and suddenly walking a straight line becomes the most impossible task in the world. I try not to drink too often anyway.” That was a half-lie––only after the alcohol-induced mishap of their last gig did he  _ really _ begin to adopt this philosophy.

Katie laughed. “And when you do, you pick orange juice as the mixer?  _ Really? _ ”

“I just so happen to love orange juice so, yes, really.” Smirking at her incredulity, he slipped a hand beneath the collar of his shirt. “And it happens to go well with vodka, so it’s the only logical option.” His drink arrived at his side, the bartender gone as soon as he’d appeared. Grateful for the liquid courage, he took a large swig. The smooth bitterness slid down his throat, igniting a small fire in his stomach. 

“Logic and cocktails, who knew.” Katie shifted in her seat, crossing her legs again––she seemed closer now, so close that he could feel the warmth radiating from her legs. Only an inch and he’d be able to feel her skin on his. They locked eyes––her lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Taking another sip of his drink, Brian considered how her lips might taste.

Raucous laughter shattered his wandering thoughts and he blinked, as if resurfacing from a trance. Katie wasn’t looking at him anymore––her eyes were on the dancefloor. Following her gaze, he noticed that the god-awful band was no longer in sight. Throngs of giddy people populated the floor, gyrating and otherwise making fools of themselves to a catchy tune being played through the speakers.  _ The Monkees? _

“Oh my god, I love this song!” Grinning in stunned amusement, Brian watched Katie jump from her seat and extend her arms toward him invitingly. “We have to go dance.”

_ Shit. _ Irrational fear simmered in his abdomen at the prospect. “I-I don’t dance.” The only instances he may have engaged in something mildly close to ‘dancing’ were when he was plastered or with close friends… and currently, neither condition applied.

“Oh yes you do, you can’t not dance to this song.” Taking his arm in her hand, she managed to haul him from his seat until he was standing next to her. “Come on!” Before he could register what was happening, her hand was on his and she was dragging him through the crowd. Heart pounding and skin ablaze with the touch of her hand, Brian found himself whirled into the very center of the dancefloor. People surrounded him, the hazy stupor of alcohol permeating the air between each uninhibited body. 

In front of him, Katie spun around to fix him with a look of pure delight, dropping his hand in the process. He grimaced, feeling very much like a giraffe in a sea of gazelles. This seemed to provide her with boundless mirth––waves of giggles shook her body. “Oh, don’t look so forlorn, follow me––it’s easy.” Closing her eyes, she began to sway to the music.

 

_ “Love was out to get me, that’s the way it seemed _

_ Disappointment haunted all my dreams…” _

 

Despite his discomfort, her carefree attitude and comically exaggerated dance moves drew him into her thrall. Eyes closed, she began lip-syncing to the song, and Brian laughed. He was enchanted by this woman and he  _ knew _ it.  _ Not again…  _

 

_ “Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer _

_ Not a trace, of doubt in my mind.” _

 

Her eyes were open now, staring up at him through dark eyelashes. “Are you just gonna stare, or are you gonna give in and have some fun?” She curled her index finger at him, coaxing him closer. Blushing at her forwardness, Brian couldn’t seem to uproot himself. It was enough just to watch her eyes dance with fiery passion––hips swaying to the beat, arms twirling gracefully. Grabbing for his hand once more, she guided it above her head and used him as a fulcrum to spin in a circle. 

Harnessing the necessary courage––maybe it was the vodka in his system, or something in the air––Brian brought his other hand to her waist, carefully spinning her back toward him. Laughing at her expression, he continued to guide her gently, stepping with her in time to the beat. Even through the fabric of her dress, the inviting heat of her skin was searing to the touch. 

 

_ “Then I saw her face, now I’m a believer, _

_ Not a trace, of doubt in my mind.” _

 

One too many twirls sent Katie reeling, clearly disoriented by the continuous motion. Brian sucked in a breath as she reached a hand out to steady herself against his chest––her fingers ghosted across the exposed skin between the unbuttoned buttons of his shirt. “Oops, sorr-” The apology died on her lips as she glanced up at him. Swallowing thickly, Brian wondered if she could feel his heart racing. The excitement was getting to his head, and he could feel the beginnings of arousal stirring deep within him.  _ Alright, cool it. Time to take a breather. _ “Want to go outside? There’s something I;d like to show you.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

It was all the confirmation he needed. Beckoning to her with his hand, Brian found a path through the swarm of bodies and directed them toward the exit sign. He caught a glimpse of Roger situated at the bar, encircled by doe-eyed young women. The drummer looked at Brian, then at Katie, and grinned suggestively. Cheeks burning, Brian ducked his head.  _ Really hope she didn’t see that. _

The stark contrast of temperature between indoors and out shocked his senses into vigilance. Goosebumps rippled down his forearms, causing him to shiver. Ensuring Katie was behind him, Brian wandered off the sidewalk and onto the curb. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he tilted his head up to the sky and inspected the nights’ display.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for the stars,” he murmured, deep in concentration. After a moment, the heavenly bodies began to reveal themselves to him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Satisfied with his vantage point, he sat down on the curb. Tossing a glance over his shoulder, he smiled at Katie, who looked a bit lost. “Well come on, then. You wanted to know if I could name all the constellations, yeah?”

She approached him, cautiously bending down before nestling into the curb next to him. Shoulders brushed as she made herself comfortable, and Brian bit his lip to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. 

_ Constellations. Right.  _ Returning his attention to the sky, he sought the patterns he predicted might be in view. “Okay, look over there.” Pointing off to the right, he nudged her shoulder with his. “You can’t actually see anything, but that’s where neptune is, I think. If I had a telescope, I’d know for sure.”

“Mm.” From the sound of her voice, she seemed to be holding back laughter. “What about something I  _ can _ see?”

Ears growing hot, he nodded and focused his gaze once again. “Yes, right.”  _ Where is– ah ha.  _ “Those two bright stars near each other…” He gestured farther to the right. “That’s Spica and Antares. Next to them, those two faded stars? They make up the Libra constellation.” He stole a glance at her through his peripheral vision and took note of the confused scrunch of her nose. “It’s like a sideways triangle with two legs… I don’t know if that helps.”

Laughing softly, Katie shivered beside him. The urge to take her into his arms and protect her from the cold seized his thoughts. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his growing attraction at bay.

“Okay yeah, I think I see it. What about Sagittarius? That’s my zodiac sign, I think.”

Humming quietly, he scanned the stars. A gentle breeze blew a rogue curl into his eyes, obscuring his vision for a moment before he subdued it with a brush of his hand. “Mm, you’re in luck––look all the way over there.”

Obediently following the direction of his finger, Katie’s thigh brushed deliciously against his. Brian bit his lip, beating back the flood of less-than-pure thoughts that threatened to spill into the forefront of his mind.

“It’s beautiful.” Her voice was quiet––delicate, even. A contented sigh fell from her lips.

He was staring at her now. It was impossible not to. Her concentrated focus on the collage of heavenly bodies above them sparked something inside him, a deep admiration of sorts. Almost unintentionally, he began leaning closer to her. Breathing was difficult, Brian discovered, as Katie finally tore her gaze from the sky and gave him her full attention. 

The tension was palpable. In the depths of her eyes, Brian sought for something––anything––to show him she was feeling this, too. The unmistakable chemistry between two souls. Her face awash in moonlight, Brian lifted his hand to cup her cheek softly. Instinctively, his thumb began to caress her cheekbone, and his heartbeat spiked as her eyes fluttered shut.  _ It’s not just me. She feels it too. _ A tentative hopefulness imbued itself in him, and he longed for her to validate his suspicions. “Katie.”

Pale blue irises met his. Angling his face toward hers, Brian leaned in ever so slowly, breath catching in his throat. All she had to do was close the gap. Close the gap, and he was hers.

But at the last moment, she pulled away and scrambled to her feet. Hand dropping to his side, Brian watched in dismay as she took a step back, hugging her arms to her chest. “I-I’m sorry, I really am, but I… I can’t do this. I’m sorry, I want to, but I can’t.”

Brian shot to his feet, mind still buzzing with desire.  _ Fuck. Shit.  _ Guilt spread through his body like wildfire. Reaching out a hand to her, he cringed as she shied away from his touch. 

Katie began backing away from him, face stricken with…  _ grief? _ “You have a girlfriend. I have work early tomorrow morning.” Her voice wavered, sending a painful jolt through his heart.

“Katie, don’t–”  _ Please don’t go, please– _

“I’m sorry.” Voice barely above a whisper, a tear trickled down her cheek before she turned on her heels and fled. 

Mouth agape, Brian knit his fingers into his hair and took hold of the roots. “Wait– Shit! I didn’t mean to–” Shutting his eyes, he sucked a breath of cool air into his lungs, desperately hoping for the oxygen to pacify his tumultuous thoughts.  _ Stupid. Stupid. Christ, where is my self-control?  _ He cast a miserable glance back to the spot Katie had been only moments before.  _ Why did I think she was interested? Why? I just can’t leave well enough alone, can I? _ Wanting to chase after her but having the judgement to discern how stupid that would be, Brian found the wall of the building with his back. He numbly slid down to the ground, the course brick scraping painfully against through his shirt.  _ I shouldn’t have done that. I know I shouldn’t have. And now… she’s gone. Maybe it’s for the best. Probably.  _ Screwing his eyes shut, Brian wondered whether a couple more drinks might aid in forgetting the night’s events.  _ It’s worth a try. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just popping in to say, while I loved writing this chapter, it does get pretty angsty... the fruits of my attempts to understand Brian's mind
> 
> (Also, if you've read my first iteration of this story, you'll notice I didn't the exact same timeline of the corresponding chapter 6. This way seemed to make more sense :) )

_**May 5, 1974** _

_**Waterbury, CT, USA** _

* * *

 

 

A groan parted his lips and, stretching one arm across his bloodshot eyes, Brian heaved a sigh. He was  _ exhausted. _ Shards of his memory of the night before ricocheted through his skull, sending fresh waves of pain with each attempt to piece them together. The effort was taxing. Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead as he contemplated the day ahead.  _ I can stay in bed, right? We don’t leave for New York till tomorrow.  _ Rolling over onto his side, he blindly grabbed at the sheets, tugging them up to his neck. 

_ Shit. Isn’t there something I’m meant to be doing?  _ Squinting against the morning sunlight, a fragment of a memory persisted at the edge of his consciousness. Before he could coax it to the forefront of his mind, however, a wall of nausea punched him in the gut. Hauling himself to his feet, he stumbled toward the tiny bathroom connected to his room and dropped to his knees at the toilet.  _ God not agai–– _ choking at the intensity, he heaved feebly into the bowl again and again. 

Staring weakly at the sickeningly yellow substance before him, Brian brought a shaky hand up to the lever and pulled it, desperate to rid the air of the toxic smell. As he watched the pathetic remains of his night swirl down the pipe, the toilet seat before him began to spin and darkness dotted the edges of his vision. Closing his eyes with a shudder, he fought to retain his weak link to consciousness. 

_ Please. _

He rested his cheek against the cool porcelain of the toilet seat as his shallow gasps for air receded into slower, steady breaths. Once the turmoil in his stomach subsided, Brian could afford to wrack his mind again for a coherent recollection of last night’s events.

 

***

 

_ Drink. I need another drink. _

Sulking his way toward the bar, Brian wearily took note of the clock. _Nearly two._ _Fantastic._ After mumbling his order to the nearest bartender, he slumped into a vacant seat and let his head fall into his hands. _What did I just do?_

“Brimiiiiii.” A thick, drunken drawl caught his attention. Looking up, he noticed Roger leaning against the counter, grinning. “Where’d Katie go? Looking like you were gettin’ on smashingly.”

Brian groaned. “Piss off, Rog.”

“Oh come ‘ead, don’t be shy! S’alright, I’m proud of you for finally branching out––don’t worry, your secret's safe with me.” The blonde gave a lurid wink. 

Rubbing his temples, Brian took a deep breath. “It’s not– I’m not– she left, okay?”

Lurching slightly, Roger frowned. “Whadya mean?”

“Look, this stays between you and me, yeah?” Brian waiting until Roger nodded vigorously before continuing. “I–I tried to, to kiss her, and I scared her away. Like the idiot I am.”

“Aw shit, ‘m sorry.” Making an attempt at sympathy, Roger rested a hand on Brian’s slumped shoulder. “And she seemed like such a decent bird, too. Thought she’d be game for a bit o’ fun. Hard to believe she’s that much of a prude.”

“No, no, it’s not like that.” Frustration began infringing on Brian’s ability to hold a coherent conversation. “She knew about Chrissie and didn’t want to be a part of that. Shit. I don’t know what came over me…” Brian bit his lip to distract himself from the tears welling behind his eyes. “She’s completely valid. It’s me who’s the complete fuckup.”

“Hey, hey, it happens.” Voice measurably softer, Roger leaned in closer. “Don’t be so hard on yerself, ya hear? It’s impossible to be a saint when you’re in a rock ‘n’ roll band. You didn’t even do anything, so I don’t know why you’re so worked up about it anyway.”

The bartender mercifully interrupted their conversation to slide Brian the set of shots he ordered. Managing a watery smile, Brian threw back one, two shots of vodka before answering Roger’s question. “I really like her.  _ Really _ like her.”

Raising an eyebrow, Roger eyed the empty shot glasses. “Easy, May. We both know how shit you feel in the morning after a couple o’ beers.” Gently removing the third shot from Brian’s grasp, he fixed him with his concerned blue gaze. “You say that about every girl, every time. And it always turns out alright, yeah?”

Brian shook his head dejectedly. “No, I really do mean it this time. Genuinely. I think. At least, I thought I felt something… haven’t felt something that strong in such a long time, y’know? And I arsed it all to hell.”

Beside him, Roger downed the remaining shot before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “If you were me, I’d tell ya to find another girl ‘n shag it out of yer system. But I know that’ll only make things worse so… maybe you should just ‘ead back to the motel? Definitely no more drinks.”

“Yeah.” The acidic aftertaste of the expensive liquid burned in Brian’s throat. “I suppose you’re right. Thanks.” He returned his gaze to his hands in front of him, ignoring the concern he could feel radiating from his friend. It was appreciated, but what he really wanted was to be alone.

Hearing Roger eventually give up and wander off, resent clawed at Brian’s throat.  _ Why is it so easy for  _ him?  _ Where does he get off?  _ Bitterness threatened to consume him, but he blinked twice, hard, determined to dispel the sentiment.  _ Don’t project your anger onto him. It’s you who deserves it.  _

It wasn’t that he was angry at himself for becoming infatuated with someone other than his girlfriend. Brian was no stranger to extra-relational emotional attachments; it’d been the crux of his life for as long as he could remember. It began as timid glances from afar, penning his feelings into lyrics in the back of a classroom. Meeting Chrissie calmed his volatile emotions for a good while, but eventually he resumed bestowing hopeless infatuation onto women who would never give him the time of day. It wasn’t their fault, though. After all, he never articulated his desires; knowing they’d eventually pass, he opted to keep them to himself. Until now.

_ I wish there was some way to make it up to her. _ The look in Katie’s eyes moments before she ran away kept looming into Brian’s vision––was it pain that he saw? Or regret? Maybe hatred. He wouldn’t blame her. But maybe… maybe there was something he could do about it. Ignoring the nagging of reason––that it’d be better if he left her alone––he frantically scoured his mind for a possibility.  _ I know her full name, maybe I could find her address in a phone book? No, way too stalkery. Shit. But wait– _ Suddenly invigorated, Brian fumbled in his pocket for a moment before retracting a slip of paper. Bits and pieces of a lyric inked the top half, but the bottom half was blank. Carefully extricating his scribbles from the rest, he pocketed the partially-written song.  _ Now, a pen. _

“Excuse me, sir?” Catching the attention of the bartender, he managed a bashful grin. “D’you happen to have a pen I could borrow?”

The man looked at him for a moment, possibly contemplating the obvious deteriorating of Brian’s sanity, before handing him the pen from his shirt pocket.

“Ta.” Pen in hand, Brian stared at the small blank square.  _ What do I write?  _ He began with her name, taking extra care to ensure his handwriting was legible.  _ How about “I’m completely, terribly, inextricably sorry.” No, that’s too many adverbs. Dash the “completely”––still sounds sincere but not too overbearing. I think.  _ Taking a moment to write the first sentence, Brian slipped his hand beneath the collar of his shirt to rub at a set of knots at the base of his neck.  _ Hmm. “I shouldn’t have been so forward––I was out of line. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me…” Then what? Where could we meet? The motel would send the wrong message. Mmm. Oh! There’s that quaint cafe just on the corner––yes. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, won’t you join me tomorrow morning for coffee? Quarter to ten.”  _ A bud of hope surfaced in his chest as he hastily added the address and signed the bottom of the note.  _ Now, to find Stacy. _

The blood rushed from his head as he stood up, and Brian had to grab onto the countertop to steady himself as the room began to spin. His skin was buzzing with heat, the alcohol seizing control of his nervous system. Paper in hand, he shook his head slightly and propped himself up, waiting for his vision to still before searching for the red-haired girl. Unsurprisingly, she was sitting with Ian and a couple other guys in one of the many booths across the room. Steeling himself for the journey ahead, Brian pushed off of the counter and began making his way through the busy dancefloor. He only stumbled once––a feat he took much pride in.

“Brian! Didn’t know you were still here.” Ian, rowdy as ever, grinned wide as soon as he noticed Brian approaching. “Alright mate?”

Nodding slightly, Brian tilted his head. “Actually, I’m about to turn in for the night––but… I have a note for Stacy.”

The girl perked up from under Ian’s wing, eyes shining. “A note? Ooh, whatever for?”

“It’s for Katie. Your friend?” A blush rose to Brian’s cheeks as he held out the paper.

Smiling knowingly, Stacy took it from his hand. “I’ll get it to her tonight, I promise––I was just thinking of heading back, in fact.” This brought a disappointed groan from Ian, who wrapped his arm tighter around her waist. “It’s alright baby, you can walk me to the cab.” Winking at Brian, Stacy stuck the piece of paper down the front of her dress.

Feeling very out of place and very embarrassed, the remaining hope inside Brian began to wilt.  _ No way that note survives till morning. _ But it was his best shot. 

Bidding the group a mumbled farewell, Brian walked back toward the exit sign.  _ Christ. Hope I have enough change for a taxi. _

 

***

 

_ So  _ that’s  _ what I’m meant to be doing this morning. _ Using the sink for support, Brian lifted himself from his knees. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, wincing at the deep grooves of purple beneath his eyes.  _ I’m going to be late. _ Tearing himself from the depressing reflection, he made a beeline for his suitcase, which was haphazardly strewn in the corner. Quickly selecting a black and white striped button-up, he discarded last night’s outfit before tugging on the rumpled shirt and a pair of black slacks. Not daring to check the mirror a second time, he slipped his feet into his clogs and dashed out the door.

 

***

 

He waited. 

_ 9:45 a.m. _

And waited.

_ 9:50 a.m. _

Brian got up to order himself a coffee.

_ 10:00 a.m. _

_ She’s probably just running late. _

_ 10:15 a.m. _

_ Maybe she slept in. _

_ 10:30 a.m. _

Sinking further into his seat, Brian contemplated whether Katie got the note at all.

_ 11:00 a.m. _

_ She probably doesn’t want to see me. Why would she? _

_ 11:45 a.m. _

No Katie.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay we're back, a bit later than expected, with another longer chapter. I feel a bit guilty about using Ratty in the earlier chapters since he wasn't actually a part of their crew during the Mott tour, but I've decided with this chapter that I'm going to have to bend a couple details to make the story work. I used their setlist from the Boston 1976 shows since the one for Waterbury isn't known (and is likely identical). 
> 
> I have a feeling I'll be obsessively reading through this chapter again tomorrow so if you notice any changes, that's why. ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

_**January 27, 1976** _

_**Waterbury, CT, USA** _

* * *

 

“Can you turn me up a bit?”

Across the stage, their new lighting technician––James?––shook his head behind his booth. “You’re already at a ten. It’ll throw off the balance of the percussion if we go any higher.”

“You’re quite loud enough as it is, darling. I can barely hear myself!” Resting a hand on one hip, Freddie grinned mischievously. Lowering his voice to barely above a whisper, he leaned closer to Brian. “We’ll find a way to get you to an eleven before the show. We always do, don’t we?”

Smiling, Brian let his guitar hang lax around his neck as he stretched his arms up into the air, shaking out the kinks from playing. “I know you think I’ll forget about it, but I won’t! I’ll hold you to it, I will.”

“Pfft, please, when have I _ever_ let you down?” Turning away, Freddie gestured for the sound technicians to roll the tape. “I shan’t rest until we perfect this intro! We’re going to deafen these fuckers, give ‘em the show of their lives!”

“Won’t know what hit them!” A crash of cymbals signaled Roger’s approval.

The third verse of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ sounded across the theater as Brian resituated his guitar in his grasp, switching the pickup just in time for his cue. Tearing through his solo with vigor, he couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. _This tour will be our best yet. I know it._ The amount of blood, sweat, and tears poured into the preparation for their third American tour was enormous, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to waste. Queen was poised to take American by storm and they were ready––thunderbolts and lightning included.

“Oi, that sounded great!” Rob, their ever-present stage manager, gave a double thumbs-up from below the stage. “Really well done. Lights and everything. Say, we’re about three hours out from showtime, so why don’t we break for a bit of food, yeah?” A tinge of desperation laced his voice and Brian grinned. _It seems even Rob has a breaking point._

Noises of eager agreement from the crew filled the air, still reverberating with faint echoes of feedback. The band began to pack up as their assistants scurried across the stage, ensuring the correct placement of instruments and sound equipment alike. Shielding his eyes from the bright lights, Brian scanned the theater. The golden embellishments and regal ceiling were familiar now, having played the location consistently for the last couple years. It reminded him of historic English buildings, the sophisticated beauty intact even after centuries of use––rare for America. It was beautiful.

Meandering backstage, Brian held his instrument in hand, in search for his guitar-minder. Joining Roger at the dinner table overflowing with food, he nudged his friend. “You haven’t seen Rich, have you?”

Mouth stuffed with bread, Roger could only mumble and gesture toward the hallway.

“Saw him head to the washroom.” Snatching an apple from the bowl of fruit, Ratty joined the two and snickered. “Think he’s still recovering from last night.”

“Ha! You’re one to talk, dear.” Freddie, seated on a couch along the pale blue wall, inserted himself into the conversation. “As I recall, it took you a solid two days to recover from your birthday festivities––or was it three?”

“Aw, piss off.” The skinny rat of a man made a face. “That’s on the lot o’ ya––plyin’ me full o’ brandy. And to think, I trusted you.”

Amused, Brian cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? I remember you begging me for more, right after you heckled my choice of music––how am I meant to believe a bloke who doesn’t like _Johnny Cash?_ ”

Chasing his sandwich down with an ale, Roger joined in on the teasing. “He wants us to think he’s all innocent-like, but we see right through it.”

Ratty bit into his apple, doing his best to suppress a grin. “I’ll learn to hold my liquor eventually, you’ll see. I may be the baby of the crew but I sure as ‘ell learn quick.”

Noticing Richie enter the room, Brian straightened up. “Ah, Rich, there you are––won’t you put her away and make sure she’s ready for tuning?” He extended his guitar out to his assistant.

“Right.” Nodding dutifully, the somber man cradled the guitar in his arms and made for the tuning room, a tiny closet of a room just offstage.

Stomach beginning to rumble, Brian reached for a biscuit. _Did I eat lunch?_ The answer was probably ‘no.’ It was easy to forget these things.

“Reckon the snow’ll let up soon?” John, flopping down next to Freddie on the couch, yawned. “Feels like it’s been comin’ down for ages.”

“If it’s anything like last tour, likely not.” With a sigh, Roger scooped up a handful of crackers from the table and sat on the floor, fur coat pooling around his waist. “If we could stop releasing albums in November, that’d be great. Would it kill us to tour America in the summer?”

“You think this is bad? Ha! Just wait till the Midwest.” At John’s reminder, everyone in the room groaned. Miserable memories of the desolate tundra floated to the front of Brian’s mind, making him cringe.

Uninterested in John and Roger’s swapping of traveling woes, Brian gathered a handful of peanuts and snagged a newspaper from a pile on the table. Sidestepping the crew members returning for a second helping, he made for an empty chair across the room, sitting lonely in the corner. Curious to see whether their appearance was being advertised in the news, Brian cross his legs and balanced the paper on his knee. As he popped a couple peanuts into his mouth, he flipped through the newspaper until he found the section he was looking for. _“Rock Royalty.”_ He smirked. “Oi, Fred, it says here that _you_ write most of our songs.”

“Is that so?” With a toothy grin, Freddie fluffed his hair. “Well, I _am_ the leader of the group.”

Chortling from his position on the floor, Roger tossed a cracker at Freddie. “Your modesty is quite becoming, ol’ chap!”

Batting at the projectile, Freddie smoothed the front of his kimono. “Musn’t you forget who wrote our first number one, eh?”

Having ignored the banter to continue reading the article, Brian interjected. “Why does everybody think I have my PhD? I haven’t ever claimed to have it when reporters ask.”

Freddie snorted. “You should do. I would, if I spent _eight years_ studying stardust particles.”

“They’re probably confused because the American education system works differently. Four years of college and the like.” Beside Freddie, John curled up and rested his head on the couch armrest.

“Either that, or they can’t fathom spending five years of research on a degree just to throw it away!”

Chuckling to himself, Brian turned the page. Eyes flitting across the text, his gaze stumbled upon a name in small text, just below the header “Letters to the Editor.” Mouth suddenly dry, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away. _Katherine Parker._ A name he’d done his best to expunge from his memory. Despite his best efforts, the reflection of her beauty claimed itself a chamber in his mind, a spectre on which he allowed himself to project his deepest regrets. It was unhealthy, and he knew it, but he derived a twisted pleasure from the torture her memory brought him. A good reminder of the happiness destined to elude him for as long as he lived.

Frowning, Brian blinked the intruding negativity from his consciousness. _There’re plenty other girls out there. Just as pretty, just as smart._ Well… save for the girl who’d kept him company the night before. Sometimes you had to take what you could get.

“Anyone up for a bit o’ scrabble?” Clambering to his feet, Roger rubbed his hands together. “Think I’m ready to knock you off yer podium, May.”

“Ooh, yes please! I’ll demolish the both of you, just wait and see.” Leaving John to his nap, Freddie slid off the couch and joined Roger at the rickety coffee table that held the torrid remnants of their last match.

Smiling feebly, Brian folded the newspaper and tossed it to the floor. Running his hands through the curls at the nape of his neck, he brought his chair with him and joined the two. “You should be so lucky to find a word as good as ‘matrimony.’ Triple word score, too!”

Rolling his eyes, Roger began to select his tiles. “A man gets engaged and suddenly knows every word in the ceremonial vernacular. What _does_ go on in that brain of yours?”

“Our bright little Brimi, always keen to impress.” With a taunting flare of his nostrils, Freddie laid his first word.

“‘Tulle?’ What in god’s name is _that?_ ” Roger snorted.

“Really darling, I expected more from you. It’s that rough, sheer material––I do believe you wore a jumpsuit sporting a bit of the stuff a couple years ago.”

“Rubbish! Never heard of it.”

Laughing, Brian set out his tiles. _Spectrum._ “28 points for me.”

A collective groan rose from the table.

__

***

__

There was nothing more electric than the energy generated by an excited crowd. Stepping closer to the edge of the stage, Brian brandished his axe against the beam of the spotlight and smirked. The power surged through his fingers as they sailed across the fretboard, elevating him until he felt as though he was floating above the crowd. Peering down at the row in front of him, he drank in the adoring gaze of the girls lapping at his feet. _To them, I’m a god._ He devoured their worship eagerly, grinning as they melted under his gaze. They didn’t know him–– they only knew the facade he donned for shows. But even that was a reflection of his true self, right? With this rationale, he was able to derive much pleasure from their veneration.

_“Deceive you not the fires of hell will take you, should death await you.”_

Brian sparred with Freddie’s voice for a few moments, the two fabricating an aural pastiche of dark colors before Brian slowed to a stop, his delays bouncing from one speaker to another. Shrouded by shadow, he brought a sleeve up to dab at his sweaty brow.

_“Ahhh, people can you hear me?”_

Freddie’s voice spun in circles, painting an ominous blend of divine musings. This was one of Brian’s favorite parts of their show––his song, having spent years in perfecting its complex nature, being performed with new intricacies every time it was performed. He bit his lip and sought the expressions of the crowd. _Do they like it? It doesn’t sound the same as on the record... maybe they were expecting something different._ But a sharp whistle and the odd outburst of cheering said otherwise.

The next few songs were a blur of adrenaline and flashing lights as the backbeat of Roger’s drum kept the band woven together. All too soon they were bowing, and then again, waving to the exploding crowd. Effectively blinded by the stage lights, all Brian could do was smile and raise his arm into the air, soaking in the atmosphere.

Beside him, Roger tossed his drumsticks into the air, whooping loudly. Brian squeezed his shoulder, grinning at the jubilant outburst. Across the stage, his eyes met with Freddie’s––the proud twinkle in Fred’s brown eyes told Brian all he needed to know about the singer’s feelings on their debut performance.

“That was bloody brilliant! Fuck!” Jumping up to hit the door frame on his way through to the back room, Roger spun around to face the others. “Did you _hear_ my solo?” Assistants clambered into the room behind them, quick to cover the sweaty musicians in towels.

“They weren’t too receptive of ‘Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon’ though, were they?” Smirking, Freddie graciously accepted the glass of champagne being offered to him by Ratty.

“Ah fuck ‘em, they’ll get ‘round to it eventually.” Toweling his matted blonde locks, Roger collapsed onto the couch and batted at the cup of water his assistant, Chris, was attempting to hand him. “Crystal _please,_ don’t you have something more alcoholic?”

“I thought ‘Doing All Right’ sounded particularly good tonight.” John picked at the leftover food remaining on the dinner table. “‘Liar’ too.”

Having relieved himself of his guitar, Brian pulled his heavy black shirt over his head, relishing in the cool air on his damp skin. “This is going to be our best tour yet lads, I can feel it in me bones.” His heavily affected cockney accent made the crew laugh.

“You’d feel just about anything in those bones of yours––there’s nothing but skin to protect them!” Freddie cackled.

Sticking his tongue out, Brian sought his assistant. “Rich! Could you bring me my change of clothes, please?”

Jumping up from his seat, Roger clapped his hands together. “Alright, no time to dally about––there’s a party beginning at the hotel and I don’t want to miss it! Aerosmith is coming and I sure as hell am not going to keep them waiting.”

“He’s right, you know.” John, having somehow changed out of his stage clothes quicker than anyone else, grinned and walked toward the hallway.

John Reid, their manager, observed the room’s antics with a half-smile. “Yes, yes, not to worry––the limo should be here any moment.”

Rich soon returned with Brian’s clean clothes and, after buttoning his shirt halfway, Brian slung his black scarf around his neck. Although it _was_ freezing outside, the garment was more a fashion accessory than anything else.

The familiar acrid smell of sweat and testosterone percolated in the air, making Brian cringe. _Really hope I don’t smell_ that _bad._

“Limo’s here!” A voice called from the end of the hallway, rousing everybody to action. Crew members ran back and forth, evacuating the venue of each piece of equipment. Following behind John, Brian grabbed his coat from the hanger and threw it on.

A soft curtain of snowflakes greeted him as he stepped foot outside the venue. Feet sliding in his clogs, Brian did his best to navigate himself through the white drifts and toward the limo.

“Freddie! Brian!”

Hearing his name, Brian shielded his eyes to the snow. To his right, standing behind the makeshift gate between him and the alley, stood a group of girls. A blonde in a massive blue coat, the one who’d called his name, waved furiously once she noticed she had his attention. Three other girls surrounded her, smiling adoringly.

Taking a moment to assess the situation, Brian deviated from his path to the vehicle and approached the girls. Flashing them a quick smile, he noticed they were holding programs.

“Christ, aren’t you girls cold? Getting a bit wretched out here.”

“We just wanted to see you, Brian! Oh my god, you sounded amazing.”

“I’m so glad you played 'Sweet Lady,' it’s my favorite!”

“You looked so good.”

Chuckling, he rested his hands on the barrier and angled his head down to get a better look at them. “You’re all very kind, I’m glad you enjoyed the show. I’ll let you in on a little secret––we were a bit nervous, being our first gig back and all.”

The girl in a tight red dress batted her eyelashes. “You didn’t look nervous at all!”

“It was the best concert I’ve ever been to!”

“I’ve never seen someone play guitar like that in my life.”

 _They love me. They don’t know me, but they love me._ An uncomfortable balloon of egocentricity rose in his throat but he swallowed it away with an unaffected smile. “Awfully nice of you, love. Say, I really must be going, is there anything you’d like me to sign?”

Eyes shining with innocence, they all nodded. Three programs were promptly handed to him and, with their sharpie, he immortalized their encounter with a flick of his wrist.

As he handed them back, one of the girls turned bright red. “C-Can you sign my collarbone? If that’s not too weird.”

Eyebrows raised, he laughed. “Anything for you, luv.” Cautiously extending his hand to rest below the junction of her neck and her sternum, he pressed the tip of the marker into her skin. She stood there silently, measured breaths rising and falling with his hand as he finished marking her with his name. Pulling back slowly, Brian savored the rapturous gaze of unbridled lust that met his own. _So quick to give herself over to a man she doesn’t know._

“May! Get your arse in the car!”

Waving to the bubbling group of girls, Brian left them to their fanatical fantasies and slid into the limo.

__

***

__

“I heard you’ve changed management. Sounds like an nasty lawsuit, eh?”

Nodding distractedly, Brian sipped at his vodka and tonic. _Who is this guy?_ Despite originally intending it to be a “close friends only” celebration, most of the people filling the room were strangers. “Yeah, a real financial set-back. But we’re lucky to have all that behind us now. Won’t you excuse me?”

Patting the man on the back, he left the balding man to his own devices and made his way to the wall. Never one to particularly enjoy being the center of attention, Brian found himself leaning against the excessively embellished wallpaper, observing the night’s pull. _Too many men in business suits. Christ, what is this, a publicity stunt?_ He sure hoped not. It was difficult to stay on top of each day’s itinerary. Lamenting the no-show of the Aerosmith guitarist, Brian decided tonight might be a good time to recuperate. They were scheduled to play in New York in a week, and the thought of falling victim to a new malady set him on edge. _And to think, I was scared of the dark when I really should’ve been scared of hep!_ He smirked to himself.

The notion to ring Chrissie crossed his mind, but Brian quickly batted that away. _Not now, not yet._ He needed to allow himself a grace period, to adjust to touring life again. Besides, memories of last night’s misgivings tainted his conscience, and he didn’t need any of that meddling in his domestic chats with his fiancé.

Temptation toyed at the edges of his mind as he took note of the women gathered by the refreshments table. _Maybe one of them would be interested in talking over a bit of wine,_ he reasoned with himself as he took an appreciative glance at their trademark American legs. _God, can I get ahold of myself for just_ one _night? Jesus._ Cheeks flushed from self-reprimand, he tore his eyes away, hoping to find the whereabouts of Steven Tyler. Instead, his eyes met a sight far more beautiful and far less expected.

__Is that…?_ _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one didn't feel quite as rewarding to write, but I'm not sure why. Maybe I feel more comfortable writing Brian's POV when he's depressed/upset/sad? Yikes lol
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoy. Please drop a comment and let me know what your thoughts are thus far! <3

**_January 27, 1976_ **

**_Waterbury, CT, USA_ **

* * *

 

Doing his best not to gawk, Brian’s eyes widened as he stared back at her. She looked positively  _ stunning _ ––a simple white blouse fluttered delicately open at her collarbones, its hem tucked into a deliciously tight black miniskirt. A myriad of suppressed emotions, desperation for companionship, and alcoholic stupor flooded his abdomen, settling into a mellow buzz of arousal. The thought of her hands on him crossed his mind… he allowed himself the chance to ruminate on the consequences.

Pulse quickening, Brian’s heart leapt into his throat as she began making her way across the room toward him.  _ This can’t be happening. _

“Katie.” The amount of emotion he let seep into the utterance of her name was embarrassing.

“Brian, hi.” Her smile was every bit as enchanting as he remembered.

Biting his lip, Brian tilted his head and sought reassurance from the wall against his back. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.” Words barely above a whisper, he fought to keep his tone even.

Katie copied his posture, leaning against the wall only inches from him. “I didn’t think so either––but I managed to snag tickets to your show. And now I’m here.” Shrugging her shoulders, she looked into his eyes with a timidness that invaded the innermost chambers of his heart.

“So you are.” Grinning at her reference to his song (whether it was intentional or not, Brian didn’t know), he idly stroked the cocktail glass in his hand. “I was dead certain you didn’t want to see me ever again, after the way you left––”

“No, no.” She waved a hand, cutting him off. “That wasn’t it, I was just––intimidated? By you.” 

Brian’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.  _ Intimidated? By me??  _ All this time he’d been trapped in her thrall, terrified of scaring her away, but here she was admitting she felt the same way.

She continued, voice soft. “I didn’t mean to offend you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

Giddiness swelled in Brian’s chest.  _ She doesn’t hate me.  _ “It’s alright. Y’know, I really enjoyed spending time with you, and I mean that.” Smiling, Brian’s eyes flitted down her body. “I just still can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“I guess I just couldn’t stay away.” Katie rested a hand on her hip, fixing him with a mischievous smile.  _ Hmm. So it’s like that, is it? _

Daring to equal her flirtatious undertones, Brian chuckled. “And for that, I’m glad.” He paused, taking a moment to admire the way her necklace dipped below her neckline before attempting to continue the conversation. “So you still live in Waterbury, huh?”

“Mhm, not much has changed for me. Doesn’t seem like you can say the same––your show tonight? Fucking fantastic! I couldn’t believe how many people you managed to pack into that theatre.”

Suddenly finding his mouth dry, Brian took the last sip of his drink before responding. “It all seems a bit surreal, if I’m being honest. This is our third time touring America, but ticket sales have picked up  _ astronomically _ since ‘A Night At The Opera.’” Bowing his head sheepishly, he added. “I’m still not entirely convinced it isn’t a dream.” 

This made Katie laugh. “I’ve kept up with your music, and I’m surprised it took this long for my country to realize how  _ good _ your stuff is.” 

Brian blushed, shrugging the compliment from the air. 

“No, I mean it, seriously! You’ve ruined all other artists for me. I can’t listen to anything else.” With her eyes on him, Brian felt like he could fly—or maybe that was the vodka.

“I feel as though I ought to apologize for that, but I can’t find it in meself to do so.” He taunted Katie with a grin. “Does that make me selfish?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm. Pity.” Emboldened by their banter, Brian angled his head down closer to hers. Lips parted, he drank in the air between them, basking in the rising tension. 

Just when he thought he’d burn up under the heat of her gaze, Katie pushed away from the wall. “I think I’m going to get a drink––want anything?”

“Ah, I’ve already had a couple tonight, I probably shouldn’t. You go ahead, I’ll be here.” His eyes followed closely as she left his side and wandered across the room. The soft sway of her hips was mesmerizing––sucking in a sharp breath, Brian closed his eyes for a moment of clarity.  _ Remember what happened last time? Who’s to say she’d be any more receptive to your advances  _ now _?  _ Blinking away his misgivings, he reminded himself that it wouldn’t hurt to try. Being the subject of his unrequited adulation for far too long, it was impossible to let Katie slip through his fingers a second time. 

Fingers drumming against his thigh, Brian began to get restless. A minute went by, then three.  _ Where is she? _ Searching the crowd, he caught a glimpse of her hair and heard what sounded to be her laughter. Immediately curious, he peeled himself from the wall and wove between couples and boisterous businessmen alike.  _ Who is she–? Ah. _

“What’re you two prattling on about?” Daring to place his hand just over the small of Katie’s back, a faint thread of jealousy knit itself into Brian’s thoughts as he locked eyes with the recipient of her attention––John. 

The bassist smiled back hesitantly, clearly surprised by Brian’s sudden interruption. “We were just catching up.” Clearing his throat, he fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. “But I have to be getting back to Gerry, anyhow. It’s great to see you again, Katie.” Offering a well-meaning smile and a nod, he politely excused himself from Brian’s stare.

“What was that?” Retracting from his touch, Katie turned to face him. She stared up at him with inquisitive eyes, taking a tentative sip of her newly acquired champagne.

“What was what?”  _ Is she upset by my touch? I should’ve known that was too forward. _

A giggle escaped her lips and she shook her head. “We were only talking, I wasn’t going to leave you in the corner all alone.”

_ Oh. _ Blushing, Brian grinned sheepishly. “I know.” He squirmed under Katie’s gaze––it was impossible to read her expression. 

“Here, come with me––the music’s too loud to talk.” Before Brian had a chance to reply, Katie took hold of his hand and steered them toward the hallway, away from the party and its rowdiness. Satisfied with their new location, she dropped his hand and relaxed against the wall.

Deciding to test the limits of her personal space, Brian placed one hand above her head on the wall, using it as a point to ground himself as he fell deeper and deeper under her spell. In response, she smiled softly and sipped at her drink, eyes trained on Brian’s face. 

Amused by the demureness of her posture, he cautiously made a second attempt at conversation. “So tell me. Do you still work as an editor, or have you moved on to other things?”

“I do, actually! I’m surprised you remember that.” Her fingers were on her necklace now, thumb gently caressing the silver pendant. 

For perhaps the first time in his life, Brian caught himself feeling jealous of an inanimate object. Eyes glued to her ministrations, he paused for a moment. “Of course I remember. I ‘aven’t been able to forget you since… that night.” He hoped the sincerity he felt was accurately relayed in his words, although he wouldn’t be surprised if he sounded like a bumbling idiot.  _ If only she knew. _

Visibly affected, Katie stuttered. “I… yes, um, I am. I’ve actually been promoted to manager now, which has done wonders for my bank account.” Smiling, she tipped her head back and let the champagne spill from her glass to her waiting mouth.

Each passing moment found Brian’s concentration on their conversation slipping farther and farther from his grasp. “Tha’s great! Really, I’m happy for you. You mus’ be outstanding at what you do, which doesn’t surprise me.” The rapture previously detained in his subconscious bypassed all filters and became manifest in his words. His cheeks felt warm and it was impossible to keep a smile from his face. Bathed in the dim yellow lights, Katie looked exquisite. Wanting to reach out and hold her in his arms, but lacking the confidence to do so, Brian rubbed the back of his neck instead.

“Is your room one of these, then?” Gesturing down the hallway, Katie grinned coyly and stepped away from him.

The maelstrom of electrical impulses running through Brian’s chest dropped to his abdomen at her words. As if being pulled by a magnet, Brian followed her retreat into the hallway.  _ Is she really–?  _  He chose his words carefully, retaining an air of playfulness. “Yes. Bet you can’t guess which one.”

Turning away, Katie surveyed the carpeted corridor. Enjoying her curiosity, Brian stood just behind as she read the names pasted on each of the doors––one for each band member. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, Katie stood in front of the door in question. “I’m going to hazard a guess a say this is it.”

By now, the electrical storm brewing in his stomach was overpowering. Joining her at the threshold, he hesitated on the opposite side of the door. “I suppose you’re right.” Their eyes met.

She stared at him for a moment, eyes shining mischievously. Then she was reaching for the door knob, and in one swift motion, pushed it open. 

The darkness of the room spilled into the hallway, a silent invitation to succumb to its depths.  _ I want this. I want this so much. Fuck.  _ Frozen in place, all Brian could do was try to stave off the desire flooding his nervous system, wishing desperately for her to make the first move.

Taking the bait, Katie grabbed his arm, simultaneously pulling him into the room and shutting the door with a soft  _ click _ . Their ragged breaths met in the darkness––Brian could feel her exhales against his neck and he shivered. Only a faint stream of moonlight illuminated the small room, but it was enough to see her face and the expression painted upon it. 

Nearly trembling from restraint, Brian moved closer, cornering Katie against the wall. Unable to stop himself, he brought his free hand to her face, dragging his thumb across her jaw with utmost care.  _ Finally. _ Feeling her squirm under his touch, he smiled and his heart soared. She was art––an unequivocally beautiful, delicate work of art. Magnificent. Priceless. And now, she was his. 

Eyes shining in the pale moonlight, Katie leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took so much longer than anticipated, oops... the end of the school year is taking its toll on my already-limited free time, so this is all i managed to write in the past week and a half. hope you'll forgive me ;)
> 
> don't be afraid to continue leaving comments––it really helps to know that people are reading and enjoying/not enjoying what I'm writing. sometimes posting on ao3 feels like shouting into a void, lol

_**January 28, 1976** _

_**Waterbury, CT, USA** _

* * *

 

There was nothing quite as extraordinary as the fusion of two souls. At least, not according to Brian. It required complete vulnerability to achieve, a dangerous demand for someone as sentimental as he. His life, it seemed, was a constant pursuit of this tantalizing human connection, this incredible validation that seemed more fleeting than the blink of a shooting star. As his lips pressed softly against Katie’s, the overwhelming sensation of certainty in their forbidden union thrummed in synchrony with the erratic beating of his heart.

All too quickly Katie broke away, wrapping her fingers loosely around his hand that was cradling her chin. Her breaths brushed delicately across his skin, eliciting a ripple of goosebumps in its wake.

“You have no idea… how many times I’ve imagined doing that.” Brian’s voice was low, restrained desire slipping through the cracks of his resolve.

Katie sought his eyes for a moment, body swaying against his, before leaning up to claim his lips again. His hands gravitated to her waist, fingertips skimming the junction of her blouse and her skirt. He was already unbelievably hard, his cock throbbing pathetically with arousal. The speed of his erection evoked memories of adolescence––an unwelcome intrusion. Feeling her hand reach up to bury itself in his curls, his thoughts dispersed and Brian suppressed a moan. She felt so _good_. His tongue flicked out curiously, delighting in the ease at which she gave him access. Her tongue was intoxicating, sliding against his before retreating, leaving him wanting more. He could feel every inch of her body against his, both pressed deliciously against the wall.

Suddenly, Katie pushed him away. Disoriented, Brian tilted his head in question and blinked. _Did I do something wrong…?_ His unspoken query was quickly answered as she pulled him from the stability of the wall. An impish glint shone in her eyes. Grinning, Brian let her walk him backwards until his legs hit the bed––his knees instinctively gave way, drawing him to sit on the edge of the mattress.

With utmost attentiveness, Brian followed her lithe fingers as they slid down her chest. She unbuttoned the first button of her shirt _excruciatingly_ slowly. His mouth went dry, tongue darting out to wet his lips as she locked eyes with him––another button teased from its clasp. _She knows_ exactly _what she’s doing to me._ The sight of her before him was all the visual confirmation his cock needed, straining against the confines of his pants.

Lacking the will-power to engage in the sensuality of undressing, Brian reached out and tugged on her hips lightly, coaxing her toward him. An idiotic grin spread across his face as she obliged, perching herself on his lap. The new sensation of her ass pressed against his groin nearly sent his eyes rolling in their sockets. “Mmm.”

Apparently determined to ruin him completely, Katie ghosted her lips across his before retreating to the sensitive skin beneath his ear and nibbling softly. Hissing at the fleeting pain, Brian ran his hands up her sides, searching for any possible way to increase the immediateness of her presence. Fingertips pressing into the fabric of her shirt, he felt a ripple of pleasure pass down his spine. Her mouth was hot, gliding across the curve of his neck, pausing intermittently to suck on the tender skin.

An especially loud moan escaped Brian’s mouth. “Katie…” His breathing was already ragged, the air ricocheting through the pit in his chest. It was all moving so fast. _I want this. Right? She wants this. God, I want it._ He tugged at the hem of her shirt, the words caught in his throat.

“Katie.” Brian wasn’t certain how he managed the coherence to speak her name so clearly. _I-I need to tell her, need to tell her––just in case. I owe it to the both of us._ Her eyes were on him now, dusty blue scouring his face in the dim moonlight. An uncomfortable knot coiled in his stomach. “There’s… something I ought to tell you, before we––” His gasp punctuated the fractured sentence as she moved her hips against his, grinding down onto him in an almost calculated movement. _Fuuuuck._ A hazy cloud of desire shrouded his thoughts–– _maybe it’s not so important._

Brian was thrilled with the discovery of the hem of her skirt, already partially bunched up her thighs. Her tongue was on his again–– _god_ she tasted good. Hooking his thumbs under the tight fabric, he slid it up to her hips, softly kneading the newly exposed skin underneath his hands.

Katie’s mouth fell open against his and she let out a quiet moan. She began unbuttoning Brian’s already partially-unbuttoned shirt, fingertips brushing his partially exposed chest.

Sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, Brian drew languid circles with his thumb on her inner thigh. His free hand wandered underneath her shirt, pressing into the small of her back momentarily. Feeling Katie arch into his touch, a smile interrupted their kiss.

Katie giggled, cupping his cheek in her hand for a more subdued kiss before pulling back. “This needs to come off.” Gesturing to his shirt, she fumbled with the remaining buttons.

Chuckling at her futility, he watched, amused, as she finally managed to free him from the fabric. He quickly followed suit, lifting her blouse over her head and tossing it to the floor.

Brian shuddered as her hands drifted across his chest, skimming the sparse patching of hair before pressing a kiss to his collarbone. Eager to show her the same level of devotion, Brian gripped her thighs tight in his hands and stood up, lifting her with him. A surprised giggle from Katie made him grin. Turning to place her on the mattress, he released her momentarily to climb onto the bed. Kneeling between her legs, he took a good look at her. _T_ _he single most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, giving herself to me completely._ Katie  looked up at him with a tenderness that made his toes curl. A tinge of guilt interrupted his pleasure-filled thoughts. _I don’t deserve this._

“Come ‘ere.” Whining softly, Katie drew him from his thoughts and down to her with the curl of a finger.

He complied readily, shaking his doubts from his mind. “Needy, are we?” Grinning, Brian rested his elbows on either side of her head. He absentmindedly drew a finger to her mouth, slowly tracing the supple curve of her bottom lip with his thumb. Wanting to lavish every inch of her body with attention but lacking the patience, he quickly dipped his head to her neck, methodically placing a kiss every so often until he felt the material of her bra scrape against his chin. Her hand was in his hair now, gentle gasps rewarding each of his movements. As he shifted lower, he smirked at her visibly affected nipples. It felt good to be the reason for one’s pleasure.

An especially loud moan filled the silence between them as he ghosted his mouth over her breast. Brian raised an eyebrow, lifting his head to get a better look at Katie as he spoke. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Brian fucking May, if you don’t get on with it––” He ignored her threat and tentatively lapped at her nipple, earning an arched back and a stream of pleasure-filled whines. Her hand drifted to his waistband, palming the sorely neglected bulge between them. Instinctively, his hips bucked up into her hand. Dropping her nipple from his mouth, Brian’s eyes shut for a moment as he moaned against her skin.

“These have overstayed their welcome.” Tugging at his waistband, Katie looked down at him pointedly. Nodding, he pulled away to get off the bed. It took him a moment to regain his balance, but in seconds he had his trousers on the ground. A faint blush rose to his cheeks as Katie watched him––it was moments like these that made him feel especially vulnerable. Baring your body and soul to someone so wholly, so much trust put upon their acceptance of what they see. He knew he wasn’t particularly blessed in terms of physique, but he hoped it didn’t matter to her.

Brian stood at the edge of the bed now, quietly observing as Katie reached to unclasp her bra. Admiring the way she moved with such grace, he murmured, “I love how that looks on you.” She met his gaze, a blush of equal hue coloring her cheeks. A swell of affection grew in his chest––maybe she felt the same vulnerability.

After helping Katie wriggle from her painfully tight skirt, Brian stood before her and bent down to meet her lips with hunger. He was desperate for more kisses, more body contact, more _everything_. Katie broke the kiss with a smile and, before he could register what was happening, she had his briefs around his ankles and had his cock into her hand.

“Oh shit.” Hissing through his teeth, Brian’s knees buckled as her tongue darted out to lick the tip. With a groan, he pulled her head away gently. “If you do that, I’m not going to last.” Laughing shakily at her confused expression, he knelt on the floor before her, ignoring the dull throb beginning to ache in his abdomen. He ran his hands up her legs, amazed at how pliable she was under his touch. Pausing at the waistline of her skimpy black underwear, he looked up to see her watching him with lidded eyes. “May I?”

Katie nodded vigorously––that made him smile. Allowing his nails to scrape just barely against her skin, Brian dragged the fabric down her legs and discarded it onto the floor. “Lay back.” He positioned himself between her thighs, resting them comfortably on his shoulders. She obeyed readily, the sound of the sheets rustling in her grasp briefly masking the pounding of his heart.

Succumbing to his desire to map every inch of her body by touch, Brian slowly made his way from her torso, pressing kisses down the valley of her stomach before nuzzling the junction of her hip. With bated breath, he watched as his finger slipped inside her with ease. “So wet,” he cooed appreciatively.

Above him, Katie squirmed against the mattress. Pressing one hand firmly against her hips, Brian caught her desperate gaze. “Stay still.” Without waiting for an acknowledgement of his command, he lowered his head and tentatively tongued her clit. Immediately her hands tangled themselves in his hair, goading him on as he experimented with pressure. Hushed moans wracked Katie’s body, filling the humid air with palpable desire. Using the intensity of her moans as a guide, Brian discovered just the angle to stroke her with his tongue. He prided himself in the relentless accuracy he seemed to achieve with each flick of his tongue. Feeling her thighs clench around his head, he dipped two fingers into her and curled them the way he’d learned to do over the years––the results never failed.

“Bri, I––God, I’m close.”

Feeling her begin to shake beneath him, Brian pulled away, breathing heavily. Quickly locating his abandoned pants, he fumbled with his wallet for a moment before locating the gold wrapper he was seeking. Ripping it open with his teeth, he gave himself a quick pump before sliding the latex on. Satisfied, he returned to the bed, gingerly climbing over her and nestling himself between her open legs. She looked up at him, the sheer intensity held in her stare sending shivers down his spine.

Leaning down to catch her lips in a searing kiss, Brian gently smoothed back the tendrils of her hair. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked between kisses.

He could feel Katie smile against his lips. “Yes.” Her voice was hushed but steady, unwavering in her certainty. With one more swipe of his tongue against hers, Brian guided himself into her. He was barely able to push past the tip before his vision blurred, all strength quickly fleeing from his wiry body.

“Fuck.” The single word fell against his ear as he dropped his head to rest in the crook of her neck. Her hands engulfed him, snaking around his waist and pressing into his back. Muscles flexing underneath her touch, Brian pushed deeper inside her. Every fibre of his being wanted to continue moving, but he waited, breathing sharply, until he felt her relax.

Katie rubbed her cheek against his. “You can move. I’m okay.”

Lifting himself up by his elbows, Brian let out a low moan as he pulled out slowly and pushed back in. Sex always felt good, but he could’ve sworn the feeling he was experiencing was beginning to reach heights of which he’d never felt. It was indescribable––impossible to configure his feelings into some semblance of coherence. Her hands were everywhere; caressing his face as she stared back at him, tugging at his hair as she kissed him, gripping his arms as he thrust into her. Carefully navigating her delicate frame, he fixed his attention on her neglected breasts. Sealing his lips over a taut nipple, he thrust into her with emphasis.

“Fuckkk.” Katie rolled her hips up into his, arching her back and lifting her chest to meet his mouth. Flicking his tongue over the bud, Brian dug his fingers into the divot in her hips. “Bri… shit.” Spreading her legs wider, Katie wrapped them around his waist to pull him closer.

Lavishing her other breast with equal devotion, Brian lifted her ass up to angle himself deeper into her. Their moans mingled together as he picked up the pace. Dropping his forehead to rest on hers, his eyes fluttered shut. “You feel so good.” He could feel her breath hot against his lips and he blindly sought her bottom lip with his, sucking it into his mouth as he thrust particularly forcefully. “So good.” Stubborn curls insisted on splaying themselves across his face, plastered by a sheen of sweat.

Whimpering in response, Katie held his cheek in her hand and pulled his mouth down to her again. Brian did his best to focus on the kiss, wanting very much to convey the cirrus of affection stirring in his heart. Hips stuttering against hers, he groaned. He was nearing the precipice, the heat of imminent climax spreading from his abdomen to his extremities. Determined to bring her with him, Brian reached down between them and massaged her clit with slow circles.

Crying out, Katie raked her nails down his back. Brian bit his lip, hips bucking erratically. “Katie, you’re doing so well baby.” Tracing his free hand down her neck, he dragged his thumb across her nipple. “Come for me.”

Watching her unravel beneath him sent Brian over the edge. His vision went white, blinding him with the intensity of his orgasm. Mouth dropping open in a silent cry of ecstasy, his hips stuttering as she convulsed around him. A dull buzz rang in his ears as his arms gave way––he managed to collapse at her side, narrowly avoiding crushing her with the dead weight of his pleasure-ridden body.

Brian kept his eyes shut for a moment, committing the moment to memory. A faint smile played upon his lips as the endorphins dissipated throughout his brain. The mattress dipped under her weight as Katie rolled over to snuggle up against him. He opened his eyes in time to see her drape an arm across his chest, a soft sigh exiting her lips as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. _Bliss._

“That was… amazing.” Brian pressed a kiss to the top of her head and caressed her hair back from her face. He felt her hum against his skin.

A content silence fell over the room, Katie’s breaths peaceful and slow beside him. An almost magical quality permeated the all-consuming happiness Brian felt. He could sense it beginning to dissipate the longer he lay still. With melancholic remorse, he carefully extricated himself from her grasp and moved off the bed. Taking a moment to yawn, he stretched his arms far above his head. Satisfied with the pops that ensued, he shuffled toward the adjoining bathroom. Being mindful of his sleeping guest, he left the light off and fumbled in the darkness for a washcloth. Dampening it with a bit of water from the faucet, he tiptoed back to the bed. He took a moment to admire the celestial beauty of her slumber, a gossamer of deep reverence casting itself like a spiderweb over his heart. _I think I love her. Do I?_ Gently wiping away the remnants of sex from her thighs, Brian grappled with his thoughts. _If I loved her, truly, I wouldn’t lead her on like this. But it’s alright, if this is just another one-night stand. That’s all it is, right?_ Grim realization weighed against his conscience. Something deep within him _knew_ this wasn’t just a one-off search for carnal satisfaction. Sliding under the sheets, he returned to his spot nestled against Katie’s warm body. He derived some comfort from her nearness, but even that couldn’t quiet his racing mind. He was terrified.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a bit shorter again, but i've decided to keep the two versions of this story matched up so this is just how it's gonna be hehe
> 
> i embellished a bit with this one, so you might fine that it gets a bit verbose at times... i maybe should cut it down in a couple sections, but i decided to indulge myself and let it slide ;) hope you don't mind
> 
> thank you all for the kind feedback you've been giving me! please don't hesitate to keep it coming, lol. it's a nice bit of motivation for me as i'm slogging through finals week

**_January 28, 1976_ **

**_Waterbury, CT, USA_ **

* * *

 

That night, Brian dreamt of lilies. Seas of them, dotting the English hillside in their graceful white beauty. The sun felt warm on his face, its beam soft and comforting. A gentle breeze sifted through the flowers, dainty petals dancing in time to the beat. He wanted to move, to explore the expanse beyond the hill, but he feared the possibility of stepping on a lily and crushing its vitality. And so he stood still, admiring what he could not touch.

Drawn away from his slumber, he was roused by a feather-light touch––an arm encircled his waist comfortingly. Squinting against the morning light, Brian peered down to see Katie snuggle into his chest. A sleepy grin tugged at the corners of his lips and he rested a hand on her head. Her body was warm against his. The sun spilled a triangle of yellow light onto her face, accentuating the golden flecks buried in her tousled auburn locks.

“Morning.” Her whisper was muffled against his skin, and he could feel her smile. 

Reaching up with his free hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, Brian tried to find his voice, still coated in the drowsiness that often rendered his words incomprehensible. “Mmm.” Opening both eyes this time, he caught her looking up at him. Katie rested her chin on his chest, gentle laughter shaking her body as Brian stroked his fingers through his hair. Leaning into his touch, her eyes fluttered shut and she drew a finger lightly over the ridges of his rib cage. Her gentle touch was soothing, reminiscent of the fleeting serenity of his dream. It was also extremely arousing.

“C’mere.” Cupping her chin in his hand, Brian delighted in her eager response. Moving up so her head was level with his, she kissed him slowly, deeply. The kind of kisses that made the world stop, its very rotation slowed by the intensity. Her hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, igniting subdued fires everywhere her hands trailed. Brian wanted to commit her to memory. If this was the only thing he could remember, the way she touched him as if he was the only man in the world… if this was the only thing he could remember for the rest of his life, he would die a death far happier than he could ever deserve.

With a decisive maneuver of her hips, Katie sat up and straddled him, the bed sheet slipping from their bodies. A gasp fell from her lips as her hands found steadiness on his chest. Below her, Brian let out a moan. Mind buzzing with sensory overload, Brian leaned up to capture her lips.

Guiding him into her with her hand, Katie slowly sank down, biting her lip to suppress her own moan. 

“Christ.” His hands flew to her hips, anchoring himself in the fluid movements of her body. Doing his best to guide his thrusts to the refreshingly lazy rhythm, Brian allowed his hands to wander down her sides, resting at the bend in her knees to caress circles into her skin. It felt as though his head was full of clouds, wispy and idiotically comforting. He looked up––their eyes met. Her expression was one of uninhibited desire, the promise of affection deep within her gaze. The soft lines of her forehead were smoothed by pleasure, her eyes lidded and her lips parting occasionally to whimper when he thrust with particular strength. 

All too soon the familiar cusp of redemptive release infiltrated his senses. Not wanting to preemptively rob Katie of the same release, Brian sat up, holding her protectively against him. He reached down to stroke her clit in quick circles, pressing his forehead to hers and watching as she fell apart in his grasp. Then he came, unable to hold back any longer, body spasming deliciously as Katie swallowed each sinful moan thrown from his lips. He felt her body tense and a moment later give way to immense relaxation—she slumped against his chest with a  _ whoosh _ of breath, clinging to his neck with both arms. 

They sat like that for a moment, her chin on his shoulder, his chin on hers, hands tracing patterns on glowing skin. The lulling feeling of intimacy was an omniscient presence in the stale hotel room air. Brian felt as if they were surrounded by light.

“Good morning to you, too.” Giggling quietly against his ear, Katie pressed light kisses along his jawline.

Head full of dopamine, Brian grinned back. “Can’t think of a better way to start the day.” He tucked a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear, admiring the way the sunlight accentuated her faint freckles. “Not a bad way to spend the rest of the day, either…” 

Katie tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in amusement at his suggestion. She gave in easily to Brian as he tugged her gently, taking her with him as he fell back against the pillows. Propping his head up with one hand, he scooted closer until he could comfortably pepper Katie’s face with butterfly-light kisses.

“When do you leave for the next concert?” 

Her question interrupted the happy façade he’d constructed to mask their situation. Brian pulled back slightly to level his eyes with hers. “We’re off tonight for Boston, where we’ll do a show tomorrow night.” The end of the sentence hung in the air––Brian did his best to hide the prolific regret he was feeling. 

Thankfully, Katie changed the subject. “How have you found touring America to be this time around? Do you feel like a veteran yet?” She poked his arm, a teasing grin softening the brief moment of discomfort.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.” This was true. “It’s a complete whirlwind. Sweeps you dead off your feet, skews with your perception of reality.” This was also true. “If that makes sense,” Brian hastened to add, fearing that she might think him a bit batty. 

Readily accepting his answer, Katie nodded.

Bolstered by her understanding, he continued. “The reception from crowds has been steadily growing, which I’m constantly astounded by, if I’m being honest. America is the holy grail for groups like us, and seeing people enjoy themselves at our gigs is a reward in itself.” He wanted to tell her how confused he sometimes felt, how conflicted their rapturous adoration made him feel. How it sometimes seemed like, despite being told he could do no wrong, he was constantly disappointing everyone and everything.  _ She doesn’t want to hear all that. _ “I’m doing my best not to need a limb amputated this time around.”

“ _ What??” _ Beside him, Katie’s eyes ballooned to the size of saucers. “Is that a joke?”

Chuckling at her bewildered expression, he absentmindedly ran a hand through the hair drooping onto his temples. “You remember the first time we met?”

Her blue eyes softened. “Of course.”

“Well, it turns out I had hep when we met. I’d had it for months, actually. The jab they gave me before the boys and I flew off to Australia at the beginning of the year must’ve been done with an infected needle, the doctors reckon.” Shifting his weight to his elbow, he found the receding scar on his tricep. “See? It’s healed up quite nicely now, but it used to be such an ugly gaping hole. They really were considering amputation at one point…” He trailed off, grimacing at the prospect. “That scared the absolute shite out of me, Katie. Can’t play a guitar with only one arm!” Smiling, he observed her inspection of the dark blemish.

Tracing a fingertip lightly over the sensitive skin, Katie smiled gently. “I bet you would’ve found a way, you seem bright enough.” 

Brian stuck out his tongue.

Laughing, she continued. “But I  _ am _ glad you recovered. That sounds horrible.” She leaned in for a quick, sympathetic kiss. Her genuine concern was endearing, lodging itself deep within his soul.

“Enough about me, then. Tell me about you.” Brian gave her his attention expectantly.  _ Tell me something good, something I can hold onto. _

Blinking, Katie paused to think. “Me? My life isn’t anything interesting, I don’t have any crazy stories about needing amputations or selling out theatres.”

“Aw, come ‘ead, tell me what’s been happening in your life. I’m interested.” 

She blushed. “Hmm. Okay, well… I’ve gotten a promotion to manager, which was pretty big.” He watched the subtle changes in her expression that revealed her thoughts on the matter––she was proud, happy. “Oh! I finally got my own apartment last year, after splitting rent with some less-than-optimal roommates.” Grinning ear-to-ear, she added, “I also got a cat.”

“A cat!” Wiggling his eyebrows in exaggerated excitement, he laughed as Katie covered her pink-tinged complexion with her hands. “No, no, I love it.” Gently removing her hands, Brian fixed her with kind eyes. “I much prefer cats over dogs, if you must know. I had a couple when I was younger––the last one I had was named Squeaky. Loved that little fella.”

Embarrassment vacating her face, Katie smiled. “Mine’s named Lily, and she can be a real pain sometimes. But so can I, so I guess that makes us even.”

“You? A pain?” Feigning shock, Brian slide a hand down her side, sloping down the curve in her waist before delving beneath the sheets and stalling on her hip suggestively. “I don’t believe it.”

All she did was smile in response, her bright eyes focused on his. “Do you ever wish you had a more ‘normal’ life?”

A pause––Brian contemplated her question. “Sometimes, yes.” Breaking their eye contact for a moment, he looked toward the window next to the bed.  _ What is ‘normal,’ anyway?  _ Returning to the question at hand, a prickling sense of guilt accented his words. “I do get some time to go about being a regular human when we’re not on tour.” 

Katie nodded, as if she understood what he meant.  _ She can’t possibly understand. _

_ But… I  _ do  _ need to tell her. _

“Katie.” His voice sounded too serious for his liking, and Brian winced at her startled, concerned expression in response to her name. He took in a shallow breath, summoning any bits of courage he could find sequestered in the recesses of his mind. “I-I need to tell you something, and I should’ve told you this long, long ago.” The end of the sentence petered off as he nearly choked on his words.  _ What is wrong with me? Have some fucking decency, it’s the very least she deserves.  _

Katie looked down at the mattress and something inside Brian wilted.  _ Tell her.  _

“I’m engaged.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I don't have much excuse for the delay in this update, oops. I got a bit sidetracked with other writing projects (there's so many potential ideas in my notes, you have no idea), and ended up taking a different route with the end of this chapter than originally intended. I think it all worked out, though. :)
> 
> Thank you so much for all the lovely comments on all my works! I really do appreciate every single one <3

**_January 28, 1976_ **

**_Waterbury, CT, USA_ **

* * *

 

Immediately after the words left his mouth, Brian regretted them. Katie’s reaction was instantaneous––she shied away from his outstretched hand, a shadow casting itself over her face. The flare of anger was clear in her eyes and drove a sharp stake through his heart. _Now she knows. Now she knows what a piece of shit I am._ He wanted to touch her, he wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault––but the betrayal in her eyes rendered him paralyzed.

“Please say something. Anything.” His voice was cracking, a pathetic sound in the stark silence. Running a hand through his hair, he felt his nerves escalate with each second of silence that met his plea. Katie was staring at him now, her expression unreadable.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Quieter than expected, Katie’s question twisted the stake embedded deep within Brian’s chest. She pulled the sheets over herself, shielding her naked body from his gaze. Another twist.

“I know. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I was going to tell you last night, but… I didn’t, and there’s no excuse.” A breathy laugh forced itself from his lungs and he grimaced, dropping his head to his hands. “I’m a bloody idiot, I know I am.” _This is it. You knew this wouldn’t last, it never does._ Tears pricked at his eyes, and he focused every ounce of his willpower on repressing them.

“You’re not wrong.”

Brian glanced up, surprised at the hint of humor in her voice. But Katie’s expression was even and unwavering, an unsettling sight. Unsure of how to proceed, he floundered for words. “I want you to know that it wasn’t my intention to take advantage of you. At all. But none of this was a pretense, either—I do… like you. Loads.” Blinking profusely, he paused, searching her stoic face but finding nothing. “After seeing you for the first time in the back of that theatre––god, Katie.” Laughing softly, Brian’s eyes fell to her hands, which were tightly clasped in her lap. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

She opened her mouth, seemingly ready to speak, then shut it. Her blue eyes scrutinized his face and, even at only an arms-length away, he could feel the fire kindling in her thoughts. _She must hate me._

“Do you love her? Chrissie, was that her name?”

Brian was _not_ prepared for that. Eyes widening enormously, his voice caught in his throat. Finding the nearest bit of sheets, he fiddled with the thin fabric. “Yes. I do.” _It’s true, isn't it? I_ do _love her._

A small sigh left Katie’s lips, as if she was expecting the answer. “If you love her, why do this? Does she know?” Her words were surprisingly quiet.

“No! God no––at least, I don’t think she knows. I don’t normally let things get this far. Something about touring warps my mind and moral conscience and––oh shit, that sounds horrible.” _You’re making it worse!_ Brian frowned, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “What I mean is… This is all my fault. I can’t tell you how much I despise myself for allowing this to happen.”

She regarded him with an even expression, auburn hair falling to her shoulder as she tilted her head. Brian wished she would scream or hit him–– _anything_ to show that she cared. The silence was eating away at him.

“Does this happen often?”

Sucking in a labored breath, Brian felt the scaffolding of his composure crumble. _She must think I’m a regular slag, that I enjoy this._ “No. It doesn’t. I don’t expect you to believe anything I say, but what I will say is that I’ve never been affected as greatly by someone as I have by you.” His sentence ended in a whisper, the words barely making it past his lips.

He might be imagining it, but he swore he saw Katie’s bottom lip begin to quiver. Two parallel creases appeared between her eyebrows as she continued to stare at him. He could almost see the storm brewing behind her eyes, lightning crackling threateningly. To his horror, a lone tear began to trickle down her cheek, trailing down her freckles and tucking beneath her chin. _Fuck._ This was all _his_ fault.

“Why did you have to say _that?_ Do you think that helps?!” Red bloomed on Katie’s cheeks as she yelled, her hands balling into fists––the culmination of the storm. But just as quickly as she lashed out, she retreated, folding into herself and letting out a whimper––so vulnerable that it provoked the tears Brian was trying so hard to suppress.

“Katie, Katie, Katie.” Being careful not to twist the sheets, Brian moved over to sit next to her and gently wrapped his arms around her trembling body. She stayed unmoving for a moment before leaning into his touch, dainty hands curling around his torso. Silent tears streamed down Brian’s face as he held her, her body wracked with sobs. “Shh. Please don’t cry.” Her heavy breaths brushed against his ear as she rested her chin on his shoulder, sniffles punctuating her tears.

Although Brian knew that _he_ was the one responsible for her pain, he felt a deep need to try and fix it, somehow, to make her forget her sorrow. But it was hard to remove himself from the situation when he was so ingrained in it… and the selfishness in him wanted to keep her for himself for as long as possible. He thought about this as he rubbed Katie’s back with slow circles, her crying slowly subsiding.

Bringing her head up to rub her eyes, Katie met his gaze. There were tear stains all down her cheeks, her eyes rimmed with pink. Offering a weak smile, Brian cautiously lifted his hand to her face and wiped a stray tear from her temple. “It’s alright if you hate me. I deserve it.”

Laughing shakily, Katie shook her head. “I don’t hate you. I wish I did, but I don’t.” To his surprise, she reached out to take his face in her hands, her touch soft and reassuring. Unable to keep his eyes open, Brian surrendered to the feeling and leaned into her touch. _She doesn’t hate me._

“I knew you had a girlfriend last time, so I should’ve asked. I… just _desperately_ wanted you to be all mine this time.”

Brian’s heart leapt into his throat. _Does that mean…?_ Opening his eyes, he focused on her watery eyes and attempted to channel the immense love he was feeling into his gaze. _I think I love her. She’ll think I’m insane, so I won’t say it. But I do._ The pent-up emotion ached deep within him, but instead of speaking, he leaned in slowly to brush his lips against hers.

Her kisses were gentle and unhurried, each one sealing her imprint on his heart. He devoured them greedily, savoring the way she sucked softly on his bottom lip. It was imperative that he remember every little detail about her and the way she responded to his touch––Brian didn’t know what he’d do without it.

Eventually he had to break the kiss and, catching his breath, he leaned his forehead against Katie’s. “I suppose we should get up.” Trailing his fingers through her hair, he rested them at the nape of her neck.

She groaned. “No, don’t say that. I’m not ready to face the world quite yet.”

Chuckling softly, Brian hummed in agreement. “There’s something about the reprieve of a hotel room.” Tilting his head inquisitively, Brian chewed on his lip. “Can I hold you? If you’ll let me, that is.”

She hesitated before nodding, following his lead and lying down. Drawing her into him with his arm, Brian took comfort in the sensation of her back against his chest, the warmth of her body soothing his aching mind.

Nestling his chin into the crook of her neck, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Feeling her relax into him, Brian’s heart stammered in its erratic rhythm. He focused on how happy she made him feel and buried the immense sense of guilt deep within his soul. _Enjoy this while it lasts. Nothing you can ever do will deserve this love._

“Do you have siblings?” He was unsure of the source of the question, but he asked it nonetheless. Feeling Katie stiffen under his touch, he immediately realized his mistake.

“Why?” Her voice was cool, laced with ice.

Cringing, Brian shut his eyes. _Stupid._ Breathing in the scent of her hair, he tried again. “I was just curious. There's a lot I don’t know about you, and… I want to remedy that.” Embarrassment warmed his cheeks as he spoke, realizing how idiotic he must sound.

“Isn't that counterintuitive? Getting to know each other better, when…” Her voice trailed off, silence finishing her sentence. There was no need to continue—they both knew what she meant.

Sighing softly, Brian traced a finger down the grooves in Katie’s spine. “I know, I know. I just… want to make the most of our time together. Please.” He swallowed, attempting to dislodge the thick sorrow beginning to line his throat.

A brief pause, and then— “Yes. A younger sister and a younger brother. What about you?” Relief washed over Brian as Katie humored him.

“Nah, I'm the only one. I've always wanted siblings, you know.” Pausing, he contemplated how much of his personal woes to reveal. “Seems better, somehow, to grow up with siblings.” His fingers moved to her shoulder blade where they began to draw small shapes onto her skin.

“How so? My siblings were a pain for the first ten years, minimum.” Katie laughed.

“Mmm.” It was difficult. _I want to open up to her… but I don’t want to burden her with my thoughts. Lord knows I’ve already done enough._ But the temptation to offer himself to her in the most vulnerable of ways was too tempting.

As if hearing his thoughts, Katie twisted in his grasp and turned to face him. “Why do you ask?”

Looking down at the mattress, Brian blushed. “It’s stupid, really. I try to stay in contact with my parents when we’re on tour, you see, just to let them know that I’m alive and doing well. They’ve never been entirely supportive of my decision to quit my doctorate in favor of the band. I tried to talk to them a couple nights ago, but they barely gave me the time of day.” Bitterness bit at his tongue and he laughed. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

Watching Katie’s expression morph into one of sympathy, he was rewarded with a strong feeling of validation. _That felt good._ She rested her hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “That’s horrible! They _must_ be proud of you, they just might not know how to show it. My parents have never been great at showing their love, either.”

A rush of relief flooded his mind and, smiling timidly, Brian blinked. “I know they mean well. I’m their only child, after all––their hopes and dreams ride on me. They want me to do well and I love them to death for it. But sometimes… it gets to be a bit much. I sound right daft, don’t I?”

Grinning, she took his hand in hers. “No. You’re completely right. My parents didn’t love my decision to move out on my own, but luckily they have two more kids to project their idealized hopes onto.” As she spoke, Brian intertwined his fingers with hers. “Don’t let it get to you. I’m sure it’s hard seeing your son leave his many years of schooling to go off and shake his hair and pluck his guitar for the masses.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Brian grinned. “‘Shake my hair?’ ‘Pluck guitar for the masses?’ Is that what it is you think I do?” Feigning offense, he flashed out a hand to tickle her ribs.

“Oh no, please don’t––!” Gasping for breath, Katie writhed under his touch, peals of her laughter filling the room. “Briiiiii.”

Chuckling, he pulled back. “I didn’t think you’d be so ticklish. Good to know.”

Sticking her bottom lip out in a pout, Katie hugged her arms to her chest, as if to ward off any further attempts to torture. “You caught me off-guard. It’s not fair.”

Placing a soft kiss on her forehead, Brian smiled and ruffled her hair. “I just couldn’t resist.” He pulled himself up into a sitting position and stretched. “I really should shower. Care to join?”

Katie propped her chin up with her fist, smiling softly. “Hmm. You can go ahead. I’m starving. Is there any food around?”

Hopping off the mattress, he nodded. “There should be some out in the lobby, where the party was. That is, if our roadies are on top of things this morning.” He laughed. “There’s no guarantee they aren’t still nursing headaches.” Turning to survey the scattered clothing on the floor, Brian bent down to retrieve his button-up and his trousers. Hearing a giggle come from behind him, he turned to fix her with a confused grin. “What? You sure you don’t want to join?”

Katied nodded. “You go ahead. I’ll find us some food.” She smiled kindly, her eyes full of warmth.

Feeling not unlike a puppy with its tail between its legs, Brian conceded and made his way into the adjoining room. It wasn’t anything massive––white tiles, a small sink, a gaudy shower curtain veiling a porcelain bathtub––but it certainly got the job done. Besides, he wasn’t one to throw a fit over mediocre hotels. Contentment was easy to find if one refrained from pretension––although, admittedly, this was a difficult philosophy for him to master. It helped to be in good spirits.

Depositing his clothes in a pile on the floor, Brian drew the curtain back to turn on the water. He waited for a moment, testing the water with his hand until it reached his preferred temperature. Taking care to step high enough as to avoid the edge––he’d learned his lesson yesterday––he sighed as the warm water engulfed him, the steady stream of water a welcome feeling. He closed his eyes, placing his head directly under the showerhead.

As the water cascaded down his back, he hummed softly to himself. A tune that had been lingering in the back of his mind for some time now, nagging at him with its haunting melody, was beginning to flesh itself out. Uncertain of its destination but eager to discover it, Brian allowed himself to explore the tune as he scrubbed himself clean. He lamented the loss of Katie’s comforting smell from his skin, but he took solace in the knowledge that, for the time being, she was still with him. Maybe, just maybe, he could persuade her to stay with him long enough to revisit their morning activities.

Not known to take particularly long showers, Brian surprised himself by indulging in a few extra minutes––a luxury he didn’t feel he deserved, but allowed nonetheless. He wanted to enjoy the subdued bliss for as long as his mind permitted––after all, Katie was with him, and it was impossible to feel blue with her around.

An adoring smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he reached to turn off the water, the pipes groaning with the motion. _I don’t suppose she has to work today, otherwise she would’ve left long ago––maybe she’ll show me around her city, all her favorite places. I’d like that._ It was blatantly obvious to him that he was head-over-heels in love, but as he towelled himself off, Brian couldn’t bring himself to care. Home was far away, so far away it felt like another world altogether. He still considered it home, of course, but it was so far removed from the touring environment that it was difficult to reconcile the coexistence of the two. And if he was being honest, he didn't want to.

Taking extra care to fluff his curls just right, Brian tugged his black trousers on but left his shirt unbuttoned. _She’s seen all of me, after all._ Glancing once more in the mirror, he was surprised to see a face of happiness. Blushing at nothing in particular, he hung up his towel and exited the bathroom.

Whistling his tune softly, Brian left his room and headed toward the lobby. Even from his position down the hall he could see the rubble from the night’s festivities, and he grinned. _Typical._ Normally disorder of this magnitude would irritate him to no end, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered this morning.

Spotting Freddie perched on the armrest of a loveseat, Brian approached him with a grin. “Mornin’. Say, where’s Katie? Are you the only one here?”

His friend regarded him with a careful expression, puffing on the cigarette he held daintily between his fingers. Before he could speak, however, a voice called from behind them.

“I’m here too, ya bastards. Blimey, can’t a man get some proper tea around here?” Roger, ever the dramatic, tossed the carton of flimsy American tea packages to the floor. “Bloody ridiculous. I can’t _stand_ that shit. Watery dirt, that is.”

Rolling his eyes, Brian folded his arms over his chest as he observed the drummer kick the carton for emphasis. “Maybe if you’d ask nicely, I’d let you have a bit from my storage.”

Clucking in amusement, Freddie adjusted his kimono and took his cigarette from his lips. “Don’t encourage his tantrums, they’ll only worsen.”

“Sod off.” Grumbling, Roger snatched a banana from the table full of food and flopped down onto one of the couches. “Not my fault Americans don’t know tea when they see it.”

“Can anyone answer my question? I thought Katie came out here for a bit of food.” Beginning to feel impatient, Brian raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Freddie.

Exchanging glances with Roger, Freddie sighed. “She’s gone.”

Blinking blankly, Brian took a step back. “What?”

“She left. Just a couple minutes ago.” Roger chimed in, tossing his banana peel to the ground.

 _No, that can’t be right. They must’ve mistaken her for someone else._ Panic began to rise in Brian’s chest. Threading a hand through his hair, he began to pace. “Are you sure? She can’t have– I thought… she was just here.”

Turning to face Freddie again, Brian winced at the pity written across his friend’s face. “It’s probably all for the best, Brian. You can’t expect that to go on forever.”

White-hot anger clouded his vision and Brian clenched his fists. “What is _that_ supposed to mean? Suddenly you’re me mum now, are you? This is _none_ of your business and if I find that you said anything to scare her away––”

“Oh come off it Bri, she left on her own volition.” Sounding unnecessarily condescending, Roger twisted in his seat to look at the two of them. “She realized how messy things were becoming and removed herself while she still could. It’s probably best to forget about her, anyway. She’s just another bird.”

“Don’t you _dare_ …” The words clumped in his throat and Brian choked, biting back the flood of tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He took a deep breath and glared at Roger, then at Freddie. They looked so unfazed, oblivious to the pain their words so easily caused. “Oh, go to hell.” Spinning on his heel, Brian nearly ran back to his room. With a _slam_ he shut himself out of the world, the door a temporary fix to the extenuating issue.

Alone, he began to cry. Horrible, pathetic tears of regret––of betrayal, of pain. There wasn’t anything else to do, and so he curled up into a ball on his bed and rocked himself softly, recalling Katie’s face as he last remembered it––again, and again, and again. He desperately clung to the image, hoping the recall would sear it to his brain for eternity.

As he wallowed in his grief, tears slowing to a trickle, the melody of his unwritten tune returned to him––haunting in its beauty.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness... hello! I'm back, but not with a very long chapter to show for my absence. Half of this has been sitting in my drafts for ages but I only just got around to putting it all together. I'm back at college now which, ironically, might mean I have a biiit more extra time for writing than I did this summer. (Fingers crossed, heh.)
> 
> I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this but if you are, thank you!! It means a lot to me. Please let me know your thoughts on where this piece is going. :)

**_January 28, 1976_ **

**_Boston, MA, USA_ **

* * *

Peering through the frosted window, Brian rested his chin on his fist. _Boston._ The cold was already beginning to get to him, an all-consuming chill that persisted even in the warmest of shelters. A local diner certainly wouldn’t be a remedy, but perhaps a cup of coffee might. 

An elbow jabbing between his ribs shocked Brian from his thoughts. A slight frown ready on his brow, he turned to see the expectant face of Freddie. 

“What’ll you have, then?” Fred nodded toward the end of their table––an eager-looking waitress stood with a pad of paper in her hands––and Brian quickly got with the program.

Taking the briefest of glances at the tattered menu, he hastily forced the words from his mouth. “Ehm, I’ll have your feature omelette, thanks. And a coffee, please. Ta.” He did his best to offer a friendly smile, although the warmth never quite made it to his eyes.

As the girl hurried away, the rest of the table resumed their idle chatter. Ratty and John sat across from Brian, Roger and Crystal a bit farther down the booth. On his right, Freddie nudged him again.

“Say, what’s gotten into you?” His friend’s voice was softer now, his words laced with thinly-veiled worry. “You seem especially aloof today. Is everything alright back home––Chrissie, your parents? Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t tell me it’s that stomach of yours again-”

“No, no, I’m alright.” Forcing a laugh, Brian shook his head. “My mind’s just a bit… tied up, is all. I’m the picture of health, I swear it.”

Knitting his eyebrows together, Freddie squinted suspiciously down his nose at Brian. “I know there’s something you’re not telling me, and that’s alright, but dear _lord_ please don’t beat yourself up about it. You do quite enough of that as it is. And if it’s about that girl…” A regretful sigh punctured Freddie’s sentence. “I said I was sorry, I really am. But we both know it’s what’s best for you, dear.”

Deep down, Brian knew those words were meant kindly, but he bristled at the mention of Katie. Tension filled his shoulders as he intentionally turned away from his friend, angling himself closer to the window. “Leave it alone, Fred. I said I’m fine.”

Rolling his eyes, Freddie turned his attention to the end of the booth––the waitress back again, this time with drinks. “I don’t believe that for a moment, but if you’re content living in denial then I’m perfectly happy to leave you be.” Fred’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper. “But _do_ try to perk up a bit, that foreboding look that’s been cemented to your face isn’t doing much to help lighten the mood. We’re on _tour_ , for god’s sake!”

Accepting his scalding mug of coffee gratefully, Brian took a moment to breathe in the bitter smell before responding, this time less defensive. “I know. I know. I’ll do my best.”

Freddie was right, of course. She _was_ all Brian could think about. After discovering her early departure yesterday morning, it was as though he’d descended into the throes of regret. Regret that he hadn’t bid her farewell, regret that he hadn’t kissed her just once more, regret that she hadn’t liked him enough to wait for him… regret that he’d met her in the first place. 

It was truly infuriating, the way he allowed a stranger to consume his thoughts and to dictate his emotions. Known for his penchant for control, it was especially terrifying to watch himself lose it so easily. But this had happened before––albeit not as strong––and so Brian, brain whirring, concocted a temporary solution. Writing always seemed to ameliorate his feverish obsessions to a degree.

The tendrils of ice began to warp themselves into crystalline hexagons, covering the window pane with their simplistic beauty. Blinking, Brian scratched his head. _Perhaps I’ll write her a letter. But I won’t send it. Just write some things down, for sanity’s sake._ He knew, however, as he allowed his attention to be recaptured by the company surrounding him, that he’d be making a trip to the nearest post office later that day.

 

***

 

“‘Dear Katie.’ No, that’s too bland. ‘Katie’? Too curt.” Legs dangling off the edge of his hotel bed, Brian gnawed on the end of his fountain pen. “‘My beloved’– jesus.” With a groan, he flopped onto his stomach, the piece of paper fluttering to the ground. 

It wasn't as though he was a stranger to writing letters. _So why is this so hard??_

He knew what he wanted to say. At least, he knew the _essence_ of what he wanted to say. He wanted to express a fraction of the mass of emotions that’d lodged itself deep in his chest… _But does that matter, really? Why does she need to know how I’m feeling?_ Somewhere in the back of his mind, Brian knew this desire was sewn with selfish seeds, but it was impossible to ignore. He felt compelled to rid himself of this burden, this heavy tumor. God, it was eating him up by the second.

Sighing, Brian pressed his palms into his eyes until an explosion of stars appeared in the darkness. It comforted him to remember the galaxy of possibilities that existed just behind his eyelids—his breathing slowed and his resolve solidified. _I'm going to write this letter and I’m going to write it well._ Removing the pressure from his eyeballs, he blinked and savored the fleeting sparks of light as they danced to the corners of his clearing vision. 

Gripping his pen in one hand, he rolled to the edge of the mattress to scoop the blank paper from the floor. Muffled hooting from the hallway reminded him of the night’s shenanigans he was currently missing––maybe, if he wrote quickly, there’d still be time for a drink or two.

Using his beloved hardcover book—‘The Glass Bead Game’ by Hesse (of course)—as a steady surface, Brian made himself comfortable amidst the covers and began to write.

 

 

> _Dearest Katie,_
> 
> _I won’t pretend as if I don’t understand why you left without saying good-bye, but I will admit it hurt a great deal. Sitting here now, alone in my room, I can’t stop myself from pondering all the things I should have said, or what I should have worded better._
> 
> _I know you must think very poorly of me. What kind of man gets engaged, only to develop feelings for another woman? Believe me, I wish I knew––then perhaps I could have prevented the pain I’ve caused you. My feelings for you are very real, although I don’t suppose it’s helpful to hear that._

 

It took a great deal of restraint for Brian not to fall into an introspective whirlpool right there on the page.

 

 

> _Regardless, I want you to know that I enjoyed every minute spent with you yesterday. The beautiful, kind, passionate woman I met years ago after the show in Waterbury has always occupied some part of my subconscious, whether I’m aware of it or not. Katie, you’re an incredible woman. I hope you know that._
> 
>  

A wave of shame rolled over Brian as he felt the prickle of tears in his eyes. Describing Katie made it feel so _real_ , so immediate––as if she was standing right outside his door, waiting to greet him with a glowing smile and a warm hug. It was embarrassing how much his body ached to feel her weight against his… 

Blinking hard, he continued.

 

 

> _Today we played our first show in Boston. I must say, this city is one of the most welcoming cities we’ve ever toured in America. Even on our way to the hotel, there were fans lined up on one of the main streets––for us! It’s all very flattering and will take a bit of getting used to. I wasn’t sure if America would ever warm up to us._
> 
> _I’m really not sure why I’m writing this. I suppose I needed some way, some outlet, to process the thoughts that have been occupying my mind the last day. Writing songs is cathartic, but that doesn’t quite cut it. Something is always left––some thought, some image––deep in my mind, haunting everything I do. It can become exhausting, if I’m being honest._

 

 _Is that too much?_ It was difficult to discern how much he could reveal to her without overstepping. Desperate to feel emotional intimacy but restrained by guilt, Brian stopped his proliferation there.

 

 

> _I very much hope you’re well, whenever this letter finds you. I don’t know your address, but I’ll find some way to ensure you receive it. I do hope you write back._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Brian_

 

After closely examining his writing to ensure the absence of any glaring grammar mistakes, he smiled. It was a small smile, but it was there. He felt lighter now. 

_If only there was a way to get this to her, somehow…_

It occurred to him that it might not be all too difficult to scout out the address for Waterbury’s newspaper headquarters. _Or, perhaps, the directory for its employees._ A kind of madness jolted through him–– _yes, I can get one of the higher-ups to dig, can’t I?_

Feeling quite satisfied with himself, Brian broke into a grin. _Maybe there_ is _a bit of hope, afterall._ Overcome with adrenaline, he folded the letter hastily, stuffed it in his bedside drawer, and scurried out the door to join the band’s entourage––a vodka tonic or two might help him ride the high of his delusion for a bit longer tonight.


End file.
